


In The Shadows Hides The Dragon (English Version)

by DaeronTheYoungDragon



Series: The Dragon Reborn [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Adultery, Aegon's Conquest, Alternate Universe, Attempted Murder, Baby Aegon is not the son of Rhaegar, Blackfyre Sword (ASoIaF), Blood Magic, Book: Fire and Blood, Book: The World of Ice and Fire, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Jon Snow, Dark Magic, F/F, F/M, High Valyrian (ASoIaF), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Incest, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Lyanna Stark Lives, Medieval Mindsets, Mixed Feelings with the Starks, Multi, Murder, No XXI Century Values, Not Tyrell Friendly, Not for Catelyn fans, Or Arryn, Or Tully, POV REading, Politics, R Plus L Equals J, Rhaegar Targaryen Lives, Rhaella Targaryen Lives, Rhaenys Targaryen Lives, Robert's Rebellion, Sibling Incest, Targaryen Restoration, Time Travel(Kind of), Valyria, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 232,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28540533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaeronTheYoungDragon/pseuds/DaeronTheYoungDragon
Summary: What happens when you mix a bad birthday, the World of Ice and Fire with blood magic an ancient prophecy and the words of the House Targaryen;Fire & Blood-Due to continuous requests, I have translated the story
Relationships: Aegon I Targaryen/Rhaenys Targaryen (Sister of Aegon I)/Visenya Targaryen (Sister of Aegon I), Arya Stark & Lyanna Stark, Arya Stark & Rhaenys Targaryen, Bran Stark & Rhaegar Targaryen, Catelyn Tully/Ned Stark (Past), Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister (past), Jaime Lannister & Bran Stark, Jaime Lannister & Jon Snow, Jon Snow & Arya Stark & Bran Stark, Jon Snow & Lyanna Stark, Jon Snow & Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia)/Undisclosed, Jon Snow/Rhaenys Targaryen (Sister of Aegon I)/Visenya Targaryen (Sister of Aegon I), Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen & Rhaella Targaryen, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister, Tyrion Lannister/Tysha
Series: The Dragon Reborn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1482260
Comments: 127
Kudos: 121





	1. Jon I

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In The Shadows Hides The Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18949606) by [DaeronTheYoungDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaeronTheYoungDragon/pseuds/DaeronTheYoungDragon). 



> This fiction is based on and inspired by the works of The World of Ice and FIre, Fire & Blood and A Song of Ice and Fire with all the Lore and History it offers, being faithful to the work of Grrm, Elio García and Linda Atonsson. Work that I have a lot of affection for and which I respect much more than D&D, if so they would not have massacred the entire construction of a universe, where actions have consequences, where magic exists but not teleportation. A world where from Winterfell to Kings Landing it takes a minimum of 5 weeks riding hard. Armors stop swords, armies have casualties and logistical needs. People need to eat, sleep, rest. Dragons do not die from Shock. The characters will be consistent with their thoughts in their actions, and these will have repercussions,generating chain effects on many occasions ...  
> I will use historical terminology for the titles  
> Ex.1 My Prince / Princess My King-Queen  
> Ex2. Your Excellency/e / Your Grace  
> It is an alternative universe but that develops in the dates / arcs of the ASOIAF books, with the characters of the novels:  
> Ex1. Jon is not short (He is about 1.81 / 85) and has indigo eyes with purple silvery streaks.  
> Ex2. Targaryens have purple, lilac or indigo eyes. The Starks gray ... and so on according to the physical descriptions in the books .  
> Ex3. The personalities are the most close of those of the books, where for example Eddard Stark never refers to Jon as his son (He refers to him as the boy or Jon) or Cersei is a stupid egocentric narcissist with psychopathic traits (Obviously, some of them, will grow out of character in this AU)
> 
> The first 5 chapters lay the foundations of the story and there will be many internal monologues to explain where each of the characters is and how they got there
> 
> There are main relationships that until they come to pass I do not think to tag

**Thirteenth day of the fith moon of 297 AC Winterfell, North of Westeros**

_"He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind_ " A GoT-Jon III

* * *

Although it was the day on which he fulfilled five and ten days of his name, this one was passing like any other day of his life as the _Bastard of_ _Winterfell_. When he went to breakfast in the Great Hall of Winterfell, he only received a brief congratulation from his little sister Arya, although from distance, because before the attempt to rise from the table to go towards him, Lady Catelyn gave Arya a look that warned of the consequences that could have approaching to hug her half-brother. While Robb nodded to him from the lord's table, which sat atop the dais of the great Hall. He, for his part, sat at one of the tables that corresponded to the servants, giving a quick account of that morning's breakfast, three hard-boiled eggs, with fried bread and a slice of bacon and a plate of wrinkled plums.

Observing the great hall he realized that except for him, there was hardly anyone at the tables below the dais, and in this his father had not yet arrived. His two little brothers, Bran and Rickon had not yet finished waking up and they forced breakfast as best they could, while Sansa ate her breakfast with the elegance and presence of a great lady, the perfect daughter of Lady Tully. The latter looked at him with a face that she had choked on a lemon.

 _'What have I done to this woman to make her hate me_ ?' Jon wondered over and over again.

No matter how much thought Jon gave to the infinite hatred that the mother of his siblings felt towards him, he could only find an explanation in that Catelyn Tully saw him as if he were Daemon Blackfyre reborn, who would one day steal what belongs to her children. Or maybe it was because of her faith. She believes in the Southerners Gods, who see bastards as children of lust and debauchery.

 _'Maybe she's not so wrong,'_ Jon sometimes thought. Great passions must have been aroused by Jon's mother so that the honorable Eddard Stark would tarnish his honor and reputation, and after that he would never speak about her again. When Jon was little child, a rumor spread about his possible mother. Due to the particular color of his eyes, and due that Lord Eddard after rescuing his sister Lyanna from captivity had gone to return Ser Arthur Dayne's sword, Dawn, to its rightful home, Starfall, Jon's mother must be Ashara Dayne. This was supported by the fact that after visiting Starfall, Eddard Stark returned to Winterfell with the remains of his sister Lyanna and a bastard son, ' _Me, Jon Snow'_ .

However, after a conversation between Jon's father and Lady Tully-Stark in the lord's solar, the rumor disappeared, making it clear that Ashara Dayne was not his mother and that name was never mentioned again in Winterfell.

' _Who would my mother be, what would she be like? What act did she commit so terrible that Lord Eddard Stark couldn't even tell him who she was? Stupid, she sure was a whore and that's why he doesn't say anything. Eddard Stark stain with a whore, that's what I am_ . _'_

As he finished having breakfast before anyone else, something he used to do to avoid the discomfort of the situation when he and the family members were there, without his father in the great hall. And because he still got time until morning training with Ser Rodrik Cassel, Jon decided to head towards the forge.

Surely there he could help Mikken with something, to then someday Jon could ask him for the favor he wanted for Arya's name day. Although no one give him anything for his name day, Arya's was yet to come and Jon wanted to have the ideal gift for her. He also knew that this would be the last day of the name that he would be with Arya. In a year surely he would be on the wall, being a ranger of the _Nightwatch_ , while Sansa and Arya would be sure promised to some heir of a powerful lord ' _poor the one who has to deal with Arya', he_ thought sometimes _._

Others felt sorry for his little sister _, 'although her father surely would not make someone in the family marry a man without honor, he is not like that_ ' Jon convinced himself about Arya's safety. Robb would continue to prepare for his duties as heir, which required endless hours with Luwin and for his grief and some jealousy, though never expressed, his father's company and guidance. And Bran would leave for the Vale to be a squire for his uncle, Brynden Tully 'Blackfish', while Rickon would stay in Winterfell, being a nightmare for the maester and his mother.

Jon accepted his future. It was not what he wanted, but he was a bastard, wanting things was not within his reach. However, above all he felt emptiness and sorrow at the future that awaited him. He was sorry to know that he would never have a place with his family and that he would never have a family of his own. Since he was able to understand what it meant to be a bastard thanks to Sansa, he vowed that he would never beget one. He couldn't be that cruel to put a child through what he had been through. And as far as possible, he had been lucky. Without his father's honor, he would surely have ended up abandoned or in a ditch on the side of a road shortly after coming into the world.

After helping Mikken in the forge, he went to the stables for a while, to help Hodor take care of the horses, and then went to the kennels where _Winter_ was with the pups. Arya would surely be there and she can congratulate me however she wants, without the censorious look of the bane of his life, the mother of his little sister. When he got there, there was only Farlen, the kennel master, who greeted him when he saw him.

“Hello boy, a little she-wolf has told me that today is a special day for you and she has left me something to give you” Farlen gave him a blue rose that only grew in the Winterfell greenhouse. He knew that if she could, she would gift him a castle, but the fact that she remembered his name day was enough for Jon.

“By the way, your little one in the litter opened his eyes today, Snow. It seems that in the end you were right and it would live like everyone else" At this news Jon could almost hug Farlen with joy. Knowing that _his Direwolf_ pup was finally okay was the best gift they could ever give him.

"Thank you Farlen, thank you! And if you see Arya, can you tell her to look for me in the courtyard later? "

"Yes" replied the master of the northern kennels with a kind smile.

He ran toward the fluffy white ball that was farthest from the other pups and their mother. _Winter_ , the huge Direwolf with gray fur and yellow eyes that reached a little below his shoulder and that looked like the sigil of House Stark personified on earth, followed his every move, ready to attack him should he do something to the albino puppy.

Under the watchful stare of the huge she-wolf, Jon picked up his pup and couldn't help but gasp slightly, gaping at what he saw. His wolf was not only albino, mute and the youngest of the litter. It was unlike any animal on the planet, as it had red eyes that seemed to look directly at the ghosts of its soul. " _Ghost_ , that's what your name is" The lick on the face gave him to understand that the puppy agreed. He had never felt such a connection with anything or anyone in his life.

However the routine of his day had to continue. So he left Ghost with his litter brothers and sisters, to head to train with Robb and the seven-time cursed Theon Greyjoy, under the supervision of Ser Rodrik Cassel. The old Knight was a patient teacher, capable of teaching them different forms to fight and always had wise advice on how to fight with honor, but Jon knew that when you are fighting another man for your life, honor has no place, only survival.

That is why after each workout he 'lost' himself for hours at the First Keep. There, near its top, he found a great room abandoned for centuries, where with only the crows as witnesses, he practiced for endless hours with a jagged tournament sword against an old fallen column of solid oak. Thanks to his training and his eagerness to be the best at whatever he did, even if he could never show it, he knew he was infinitely superior to any man with the sword of Winterfell.

"Good morning boy" Ser Rodrik greeted him with a disapproving face when he arrived with the training already started, while watched as Robb and Theon were having the first of the day's duels.

"Good morning Ser" he replied with a slight nod of the head in deference. "Why are you late boy? you should have arrived almost half an hour ago” asked the Winterfell master at arms, while Robb and his strength began to prevail in the duel between his brother and the _squid._

"I was in the kennels, seeing my _Direwolf_ " Jon replied quickly to the old knight.

"That does not happen again, _Snow_. If one day you find yourself facing a battle, it will start with you or without you" the knight replied in a dry tone.

“Enough you two. Now that Snow has come, Robb who was about to win will face him, thus warming up his muscles soon. Greyjoy, you can practice with the practice target "

"Ready to lose, _Snow?"_ his brother asked him, as they both framed up to face off. At one point in his life he would have been bothered that Robb called him _Snow_ , but from that moment when they had seven days of the name and Robb made it clear that he could never inherit Winterfell, because he was a bastard, he began to understand that no matter how much Robb tried and he turned a blind eye to certains things, their relationship would never go beyond being cordial, though increasingly distant. With Theon's arrival and years later, with the _squid's_ fondness for the women of _Wintertown,_ especially those of its brothel, the distance between Jon and his brother continued to grow.

"I'll try to make it difficult for you, _Stark_ " Despite his, at times, internal contradictory feelings about him, Robb was his brother and Jon would never hurt him. He would do everything in his power to protect his family, even Lady Tully. Imagining the pain that would cause his family if something happened to their mother, made any serious animosity he felt for the _Trout,_ diminish considerably.

Inspecting both his blunt sword and his surroundings, he saw that both his father, Lady Tully and Maester Luwin were in the gallery that overlooked the courtyard, watching the training.

Lord Eddard, when he felt Jon's eyes on him, returned an affectionate smile, although his affection did not finish reaching his father's eyes. Whenever he looked at him, and especially on the day of his name, Jon felt that his father looked at him with a mixture of love and infinite sorrow that he did not quite understand where it came from.

 _'It can't be because I remind him of my mother, because everyone says that if it weren't for my eyes and my slender complexion, I am almost identical to my father when he was in the Vale_ .'

And with those thoughts in Jon's head, the sibling spar began.

"Don't worry if you lose Jon, it's normal for a _Stark to_ be better than you" Robb told him in a joking tone, but with a certain pride, as he unloaded a powerful blow from the right to his hip, which Jon managed to block with great difficulty with his sword, but that made him take a couple of steps back.

Robb's strength, together with the height difference between the two ' _Robb must be around 1'86 meters and I barely reached 1'81_ ' made his brother a difficult opponent. Especially when he had to fight even at half his potential.

This caused that many times during the confrontations with his brother, Jon chose to be permanently on the defensive. Today was not going to be different. Avoiding Robb's wild two-handed sword arcing strikes without counterattacking in the innumerable spaces his brother offered him, or without taking the offensive himself, led to his only strategy being to block at the same time taking a step back and another in the opposite direction of Robb's sword.

"As always the cowardly _bastard_ dancing in circles around Robb," said Theon, who was now watching the duel.

In this way, Jon managed to lengthen the duels without showing his true potential, but doing enough to tire Robb and it seemed that he was condemned to defend with no option to anything else.

"At least I am capable of not get caught even once, unlike your _squid"_ He replied agitatedly to Theon, while blocking with his long sword a bottom-up attack from Robb, which if he had landed would have left a purple on his Left thigh. Glancing sideways at the gallery above the courtyard, he couldn't help but watch Lady Tully and the look that lit up as Robb attacked and was about to hit Jon. Or the looks of revulsion and ' _panic_?' when Jon successively managed to block or dodge the attacks, without Robb even brushing against him.

"Come on Jon, show me what you can do apart from avoiding my attacks." Those kinds of expressions were the signal from Robb for him to attack him. And as a good brother, Jon always did.

However, when it used to get to this point in the duels, Jon attacked in such a way that his movements were easily read by Robb, so that he would end up finding an opening in his offense and thus end the fight.

"Then don't complain if you end up on that _lord's_ ass for which so many daughters of northern lords sigh ... Lord Manderly's granddaughters would surely be delighted to offer you care after such _serious wounds_ _won in noble combat_ " Jon's comment was received by a muffled laugh from Theon and a face of weariness and resignation from Ser Rodrik. Jon began to attack in a series of patterns that were demanding but that Robb must be able to block or dodge, while Jon used his shield to stop his brother's counterattacks. Robb, red for the effort and for the references to Lord Manderly's granddaughters that had been hinted at him more than once, soon accepted the bid and between puffs to find air, he replied.

"At least they don't mistake me for a lady because of my hair and being pretty! Now you'll see, _Snow! "_ Robb's comment delighted Theon, who was now laughing out loud. By not changing Jon's pattern in attack or defense, Robb ended up finding the opening and thereby defeating him ' _according to how the blood dictated'._ And if that changed, Catelyn Tully would be there to remind him.

He still remembered it as if it were passing before his eyes. Maybe it was because since then his life has been a repetition of that year. When they had 7 days of the name and they still used wooden swords Robb and he, and although the bastards mature earlier, Jon still had an innocence that did not make him aware of the lengths to which Catelyn Tully could go against him, without actually incurring physical violence. But he learned. When his father went to war with King Robert in the _Greyjoy Rebellion_ , should Jon take actions that the _Trout_ considered a threat from him against his son, Jon would receive his punishment.

Every time Jon in a training session beat Robb, that night Jon had less food on his plate. When Jon was still sharing Maester Luwin's studies with Robb and looking brighter than Winterfell's heir, his clothes were getting worse and worse and he had to ask old Nan to mend them. Lady Tully-Stark was at that time the one who was in charge of trying to distance the two brothers until then almost inseparable, however she did not succeed, or not at all. Yet, she did it with Sansa, who since she knew what a bastard was, stopped calling him brother, to refer to him as half-brother. Winterfell's servants did not take long to follow their lady's example, since his father in the management of the House, little intervened.

Except for Cage the cook, who when sometimes Lady Tully gave him less food at dinners, before Jon went to his room to sleep, left a meatloaf waiting for him in the kitchens. And fortunately he was not the only one. Also showed some concern for his well-being Mikken, Farlen, old Nan, Hodor and 'Ser' Andrew 'Longbeard' the watcher at the north gate who has so often seen him sneak into _First Keep_ at night without saying a word to anyone.

Soon the exceptions of the year of the _Greyjoy Rebellion_ became the norm and his last eight days of the name in his life had been the same. Moving in the shadows, trying to be inconspicuous and loyal to those who were loyal to him.

When the great lords of the north came, they looked at Jon as if he were an extraordinary object, as if he were a dragon, something unthinkable that he was there. But he existed and breathed, being the walking stain of the man who could hardly show him or give him the affection that he gave to his children born in his marriage. And when his father managed to find time in his life to have moments alone with Jon, and he looked at him with that look of infinite love and sorrow, they were moments of affection that did not fill. An affection that, because of the secrecy that sometimes had to be shown, felt bad, it could not be correct. And then yet when Jon saw him with Bran, or Robb. Or When he contemplated the way his father looked Arya ... Jon had never felt his father feel that way about him.

His train of thoughts as he faced Robb had thrown him into complete internal disarray. Jon always accepted everything life threw in his face and tried to overcome it.

Usually his little sister Arya, tells him that his way of dealing with life was to be brooding. But if you analyze it well, more than melancholic and brood, what Jon was trying to be was a shadow. To go as unnoticed as possible, knowing that his place in life would always be in the shadow of being the only stain in the immaculate and unpolluted life of Lord Eddard Stark. He just wanted life to pass as quickly as possible, while he stayed in the shadows.

But if he was completely sincere, he had ambitions and desires, while a bottomless well of anger and frustration simmered inside him. Of sorrow and sadness. His soul was broken by feeling that he did not belong anywhere. His family had a part of his heart and Winterfell was his _house_ , but not his _home_. Never his _home_. He could never have what a Stark of Winterfell have, could never be one of them. He was not a Stark. He was _Snow._ And because he was _Snow he_ was doomed to be the _Bastard of Winterfell_ for life. Carrying a grief in which he had nothing to do with it. Jon was not to blame for being born. And now he had to let Robb win, or else Lady Tully would retaliate against him.

'What _'s next if I beat Robb? Leave me without firewood for the hearth_? _Poison me?_ 'Jon thought with anger inside. His name day was officially shit.

At that moment his hatred for Lady Catelyn, caused that when he saw the same cold turquoise blue look of her in Robb's eyes when he was going to attack him in his opening to defeat him, the only thing that passed through his eyes was red. For the first time in his life, his inner self-regret and grief have given way to a new sensation. Inside him, a dam has opened that now he does not know how to close and overflows. Overflows with fury. And this time he is unable to contain it.

' _All seven curse you Catelyn Tully-Stark, watch a bastard sweep the floor of Winterfell with the ass of your beloved firstborn.'_ His fury is such that he does not realize that it is all over until he hears distant voices and a yip.

' _Ghost! How did you get out of the kennel, what are you doing here?_ ' Upon coming to his senses, he is able to realize that during his outburst of fury, he has not only defeated Robb, over whom he is now straddling, his sword against his neck and he is looking as if he were looking at Jon for the first time in his life. But also, at some point the cursed squid of Theon got into the duel between him and Robb and now he was on the ground on his knees with blood running profusely from his nose. Ser Rodrik, who was tending to the hostage from the Iron Islands, was looking at Jon with a face of equal parts reproach and amazement.

When he came to his senses and regained his coolness, Jon noticed that practically everyone in Winterfell, including his brothers and sisters and all the direwolfs, were watching the scene that had just happened in the training courtyard, with mixed expressions. These varied between Bran's disbelief, the astonishment on Sansa's always composed face, what he sensed was fear in the Septon Chayle and in the Septa Mordane, and the ear-to-ear smile of pride on the part of Arya.

' _Not only have I beaten Robb, but I have almost made him pulp and in the process I have broken Theon's nose_. _By the gods Jon !!! This will only give Lady Tully more reason to hate you and everyone will want to see this as proof that you are the bastard they say you are, because you have been unable to control your impulses._ '

When Jon gives Robb his hand to lift him off the ground and apologizes, he can't help but feel the cold, hateful and _scared look?_ from Catelyn Tully atop the palisade and the eyes of _Disappointment? Pain?_ in his father. If he needed more signs that it was his time to disappear for the day from the people of Winterfell, this confirmed it.

"Sorry Robb, we'll talk later. It must have gone to my head that it was my name day." With that and a pathetic attempt at an apologetic smile, he prepared to leave the courtyard and the focus of attention in which he was. Without apologizing to Theon, he scooped up the newly appeared Ghost to head into the Godswood and try to find the peace that had left him.

With Ghost in his arms, imbued with his thoughts, he is intercepted in the courtyard, by his father who has come down from the gallery without him notice.

"Jon, are you okay?" Eddard Stark asked with some concern on his face.

"Hmm ..." Jon mused.

“I want you to know that I am not mad at you, on the contrary I am glad that you finally beat Robb, especially on your name day!” Jon let out a sigh, but before he could answer, his father spoke again.

“What you have shown today is incredible, we did not know that you had that skill with the sword, have you always been keeping something up your sleeve? Or is it that all this time you've been holding back in training because you didn't want to embarrass Robb? You can be honest with me, I can understand you, nothing happens because you are better than Robb in something ..." In that moment Lord Stark looked towards the courtyard, but looking really into infinity, to look again at his face and with a small smile, tell him.

“My brother Brandon always humiliated me in our duels. He took advantage of the fact that he was older and bigger than me ..." his father seemed to be looking at the courtyard as if he were seeing his past again, but after a sigh he continued "... one of the reasons why I became friends with Robert in the Vale was because he taught me that i could beat any man if i wanted to. And he proved it by letting himself win. Or at least i believed he left me. The point is, I would have liked to be able to do to Brandon what you did to Robb today."

Before answering, Jon looked around to see if there was anyone paying attention to what they were talking about, since there was no one, Jon was going to ask his father what he wanted most in the world.

“Father, today is my fifth and tenth day of the name. You know I have never asked you for anything, nor have I complained about Lady Catelyn's continuous _treatment_ or…” but before Jon could finish the sentence, Eddard Stark's deep breath interrupted him, and with the stoic face he usually uses with the lords of the north he said

“Jon, you know that you are a sensitive matter for Catelyn. I can ask her, and even demand that she accept you living here. But I cannot ask her to be a mother to you, nor can I demand better treatment of you, without incurring possible political ramifications. Hoster Tully still writes me a letter every six moons threatening to break the grain exchange agreement with the north if at some point I come to consider legitimizing you even by putting you last on the inheritance list." On that moment his father made a face that seemed to show that he was already well into his thirty days of the name.

“Jon, the politics are very complicated and after Robert's rebellion, Westeros is sustained by a very unstable peace. The _North_ cannot afford to lose the support of the _Riverlands_. For there to be any change ... I would have to get out of her..."

Ned stared into Jon's eyes. Being only slightly taller than Jon himself, their eyes were almost in the same line of sight. The amount of emotions that passed through his father's gaze, gray eyes like a storm, were impossible for Jon to list. But if he was sure of one thing, it was that the next thing his father was going to tell him was going to hurt.

"I don't know if you've seen that while you were training, Catelyn came to talk to Maester Luwin with me." Jon just nodded, giving his father his foot to continue.

"Today a raven came from your uncle Benjen, saying that good men are needed for the wall and after what I saw today, I think there are few better men than you have the _North_ to offer" Ned Stark stared at him to see his reaction. But at that moment Jon felt nothing.

That he chose the dignified and honorable way out of going to the wall to stop being a nuisance when he completed the six and ten days of his name, was one thing. That his own father was _inviting_ him to go before even being an adult to the wall ... with all the mistreatment and bile of Lady Catelyn that he had had to endure ... on his name day ... after what had happened with Robb ... it was too much. So he chose to be direct and stop beating around the bush.

“Very _well Lord Stark_ , since I _am a political charge_ and we do not want _the trout to get angry_ , I will go to the _Wall_. I will _exile_ myself, but in return you will tell me who my mother is. After that there hasn't reasons to have more contact between his wife and me. Neither do the two of us, _if you my Lord, so wish_. I will only ask you to allow me to maintain communication by crow with those of my brothers and sisters who want it” Jon said in a challenging way. Many times his father had denied him the knowledge of his mother, but if Lord Stark wants him to go to the wall, first he had to know who his mother was and if she was alive.

_'I don't care if she was a whore or that she was a bastard daughter of the Mad King. I'm going to find her. Even if I have to immerse myself in the depths of the Fourteen Flames of Valyria and go through the Seven Andal hells. '_


	2. Jon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The culmination of Jon's "great" birthday  
> It is a dark chapter. (I stick to the ratings and tags I put on the Fic)

** Thirteenth day of the fifth moon of 297 BC Winterfell, North of Westeros  
**

_"He rose and dressed in darkness, as Mormont's raven muttered across the room." Corn, "the bird said, and," King, "and," Snow, Jon Snow, Jon Snow. "That was queer. The bird had never said his full name before, as best Jon could recall. " ADwD, Jon XII_

****

* * *

The conversation with his father had left him even worse than he was. It felt like the ground had been moved, and there was nothing under it. He already felt like a burden to his own father, who secretly invited him to leave his home while he was unable to even tell him his mother's name, telling him that it was not yet the right time.

' _It's the right time for me to go to the wall, but not to find out who my mother is. Hypocrite.'_ Sometimes Jon wondered where Eddard Stark's famous _honor was_ , if he was able to _invite him_ into self-exile, without even telling him who his mother was.

_'If this really were my home and my father loved me like my brothers, I would not have as the only way out, to leave my home.'_

_'But really, Winterfell has never felt like home to me, I've never had what makes a home: Love.'_ If he really loved me as much as his other children, he wouldn't deny myself knowing my mother's identity by making excuses for why he didn't tell me.

He headed for the _Godswood_ to be alone and lower his anger level. A bath in the hot springs would relax him. The warmth had always felt like a motherly hug.

' _Or so I want to_ think, _but I don't know, nor will I ever know what that is_ ' He thought bitterly. He was not like that. But today Jon didn't know what was wrong with him. It seemed as if the day was planned to break down every one of the barriers and self-restraints that he had built within himself throughout his life. Although Jon always thought that he could endure the rest of his life accepting his situation, today it was showing him that he was not.

 _'Calm down Jon! Today you are magnifying everything because it is the day of your name._ ' However, _Ghost_ seemed to disagree with the reason for his state, claiming his attention with a pitiful moan, as he licked the hand that held him close to his body.

Unfortunately for him, the gods seemed to be having fun trying to make Jon's day even worse. Before he could look up from his pup, he was bumping headlong into none other than Lady Catelyn Tully Stark, whom he had to quickly grab with his free hand to prevent her from falling to the ground.

' _Great! First I almost seriously injured Robb and now I almost knocked her down! '_ Jon frowned in agony as he released his brothers' mother, whom he had never touched before in his life.

"What are you doing here _Bastard_ ? Do you think you are someone so important that you don't even need to look where you are going? The _Seven_ already say that the _bastard's_ blood is contaminated, and seeing you today, _Snow_ , that cannot be denied” Catelyn Tully said acidly as she quickly overcame the surprise of colliding with Jon and his subsequent intervention to prevent her from falling.

Straightening her back and chin in displeasure, her tone left no doubt of the disgust Jon's presence aroused in her. To be honest, nothing about her, from her bodily expression to her gaze, showed anything other than revulsion for him.

"You're not a Stark, you can't be here" she said without even giving him time to respond to the previous salvo of scorn he had thrown at him. However, Jon didn't have the day to hold back. For the first time in his life instead of shrugging and lowering his gaze, he raised his eyes from the ground and stared at the _doom_ of his life,

“I am not _Stark_ , nor will _I_ _ever_ _be_. _Your lord father, you and I know that perfectly well_ . But at least the blood of the north runs through my veins. That is _not_ something that can be said about you _my lady ”_ Jon told her with all the acid and bile that he had been accumulating all his life against the mother of his brothers.

" _Slap"_ The slap that the Lady of Winterfell gave him echoed throughout the castle's north courtyard. The servants who were not yet aware of the dispute between the _bastard of Winterfell_ and his _stepmother_ , were now fully fixed to see what Jon's reaction would be. And with the day that he had been having, Jon did not think to disappoint them before going to the most remote part of the castle to lose himself in its shadows until no one remembered him.

"Lady Tully," Jon began, reaching out to his face, where Lady Catelyn's hand had impacted him.

“I must give thanks that you're not _a she-wolf,_ because if not, at this moment my _pretty_ face would have been disfigured. However, _I am a wolf. And the wolves eat the trouts”_ Jon said in a low tone, without any stridency, but threatening and primary. His eyes, cold as the ice of the _Wall,_ never left Lady Tully's.

 _'For once in your life, let's see what your reaction is when someone insults you in front of everyone'_ Jon thought entertainingly to himself.

 _'At least this day of fury has allowed me to pay this tribute to Lady Tully, although I am sure I will regret it'_ reflected as he gazed at the face flushed with sheer rage on Lady Tully. With a speed Jon never imagined in the lady of Winterfell, her right hand ruthlessly reached for his face.

" _Slap ... Bastard_ " This time the slap was on the other cheek and with much more force than the previous one. The long fingernails of her hand had left a trace on the left side of his face, producing a small wound almost at the level of his left eye, from which a little blood was coming out. Then Lady Tully Stark, with an indignant demeanor exuding anger from all her pores, gathered up her skirts, hurrying off with Beth Cassel and Vayon Poole in tow. The steward and the maid had expressions of disbelief at what had happened, but they followed their lady without question.

Jon knew that his relationship with Lady Stark was degenerating more and more every day, causing bad vibes to be floating around Winterfell. And today was the straw that broke the camel's back on both sides. He wasn't particularly concerned about his happiness, but he was concerned about how the increasingly palpable tensions might affect his father and siblings. As for him, Jon was clear that his hours in the northern capital were numbered. His thoughts and his life showed him more and more that he had no place in this world.

So he preferred to move away from the spotlight, to return to the shadows of his usual hiding place, in the abandoned room of the _First Keep,_ where he spent so many hours honing his sword skills. He wrapped _Ghost_ in his dark gray doublet and night-black cloak, and with a quick and determined step he headed towards the north courtyard of the castle, from where he accessed the thousand-years-old fortress that today was a ruin.

Once there, Jon began to release all his repressed rage, letting time fly, while striking again and again the fallen column of frayed wood, present in that same place since before the Andal invasion of _Westeros._ He couldn't say how many hours had passed since the incident with Lady Stark, but by the time he finally felt a certain calm return that he hadn't had all day, his body was absolutely aching and contracted. The clothes he was wearing were soaked in sweat, but fortunately Jon had removed his cloak, leaving it on an old stool near the window. A huge black raven had perched on the windowsill, making a striking contrast to _Ghost's_ pristine white that was asleep between the folds of the black cloak.

As he took off his doublet and the undergarment he was wearing, he watched through the window as the sun began to set, and the people and towers of the castle cast their shadows on the differents courtyards of the castle. From up there, where Jon was watching, the staff and servants of Winterfell looked like little children running around in apparent chaos.

 _'They are surely preparing the Great Hall for dinner'_ so he still had time to rest his body a bit, since he was exhausted. He was surprised that despite approaching the window, the crow that seemed to be watching him, stood still barely without flinching.

 _'Strange'_ muttered Jon curiously, as he bent down to pick up _Ghost_ who had now woken up and was looking at him curiously.

“How about we both continue your break? I need to put the cloak before I get cold, but as I put it on, you can climb on top of me" Jon said to his wolf as he lifted him up until his eyes were face to face, with arms that trembled from his physical and mental exhaustion of the day. His _Direwolf_ was looking at him with an expression that conveyed an intelligence unbecoming of an animal, seeming to understand perfectly what Jon wanted. Lowering his wolf against his chest with one hand, he picked up the cloak from the stool with his free hand and headed to the corner of the room where there was a pile of straw, making it fluffier to lie there.

With _Ghost_ snuggling against him, between his neck and his chest, Jon wrapped himself in the black wool cape and began to drop his eyelids, feeling even more tired than he thought he was. Sleep began to invade him, seeing last before closing his eyes, the black raven that continued to watch him from the window.

Suddenly he felt himself awaken naked and feeling a burning cold, in the snowy main courtyard of _Winterfell_. But not a single person was seen, nor servants anywhere, not even the guards were present, it seemed that the castle was empty. Jon began to feel a tightness in his chest and a feeling of emptiness and utter hopelessness. He knew this was not real, that it was a dream. He wanted to wake up, but he couldn't, so he started walking around the castle trying to find someone, but there was no sign of living beings. Even the crows had disappeared, and the stables he found full of bones.

Seeing himself alone, panic began to spread throughout his body. He began to run, opening doors, climbing the steps of towers three at a time, screaming for someone, anyone. Feeling that his soul was being torn inside, he began to ask for help, calling his father, his brothers, his sisters, but no one answered him.

 _'Mother!'_ He screamed in an attempt to get someone to save him from that dream. He needs to wake up now, he could no longer bear the internal anguish, the feeling of living in absolute emptiness, of having no relevance. Of not having anyone. Of being nobody, more than a shadow.

 _'Mother'_ He screamed again, but instead of waking up, he found himself in front of the crypt door. Although he did not want to open the door for the world, his body did not respond, continuing the action until he opened the black door of _Ironwood,_ which gave access to the eternal resting place of the ancient _Kings of Winter._

When accessing it was black inside, being able to see only the first spiraling steps that descended into an abyss of darkness. All his senses told him he had to go there, but Jon didn't want to. He was afraid of what might be found. The old _Winter Kings_ are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone _Direwolf_ at their feet and iron swords at their legs, but Jon wasn't afraid of them. He was terrified to not belong there, to lose himself in the shadow of that abyss of darkness. His body, however, decided to start the descent.

"I'm not a Stark, this is not my place!" He screamed with all the might Jon had, trying to prevent his body from continuing to descend, but the darkness began to embrace him, continuing his descent, it felt as if the walls were compressing as he passed. The darkness was so thick it seemed to envelop him with its weight by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs. Jon knew that he had come to where the _Winter Kings_ were to judge him. Jon knew that this was where his destiny lay, in the shadows of the Winterfell crypts. But he panicked at what awaited him. He wanted to scream, He wanted to wake up, He wanted to run away ...

Suddenly a flame and a voice emerged from the darkness. The pain he felt while being eaten by the flames was indescribable.

_'Skori se mele qēlos ānogar se sȳndror derēbagon, Kivio Dārilaros, se tresy hen suvion, se tresy hen perzys, se zaldrīzes sigligon, se dārys isse se sȳndor kessa sagon sigligon arlī rȳ suvion se perzys, rȳ hen dōron, se zirȳ kessa maghagon se ñāqes'_

_"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"_ He woke up with a start, drenched in sweat and shaken. Jon's skin was cold and clammy, and his body trembled in the darkness of the abandoned room of the _First Keep._ It was hard for him to catch his breath, feeling totally out of place and abandoned. _Ghost_ was nowhere to be found and he was unable to really know where he was, or whether the dream had been real or not. Trying to calm down, he began to look around, identifying that he was in the abandoned room of the _First Keep,_ where he had previously laid down to rest _._

 _'I must have been asleep for hours, it must be the hour of the wolf '_ thought Jon, trying to escape from the dream so vivid and real, that he still felt the pain of the fire on his skin, in his bones, in his soul. The call he felt to the crypts made his mind think of nothing but them. He wanted to go, get down there, understand what his dreams were telling him.

 _'Why am I afraid of crypts? As a child I played there with my brothers'_ thought to himself, while remembering with pain the times when Sansa still considered him her brother. He will never forget the day the flour prank was played on her by Jon's posing as a ghost. He went to the window to look at the northern night sky and try to decide if today was the day he had to resolve the doubt that the nightmare had raised.

Looking out the window, he couldn't help but gape at the night sky. Jon had never seen anything like that in his life. Something so bright, not even in that color, that color that awakened something within him. The color of blood, flames and sunsets. A huge red comet streaked the darkness of the horizon heading southeast. He wondered if his silent companions, the gargoyles of the ancient fortress of the _first men_ , had ever seen him in the past. They had been here much longer than he had, and they would still be here long after he left. If stone tongues could speak...

Although he did not believe in omens, some in that red, fiery, living mass behind the darkness of his dreams told him it was a sign.

 _'Maybe it's my star'_ thought Jon, still with some agitation, as he continued trying to recover from the oppressive and distressing nightmare.

He had decided, he would go down to the crypts to verify that the nightmare had been that, just a nightmare. He quickly donned the undershirt he had previously discarded, leaving the doublet next to the training cloak and sword, to speed toward the crypts that held its place just below the _First Keep_.

 _'When I see that there is nothing down there, I'll come back for my things'_ Jon assured himself.

As he left the _First Keep_ to walk into the north courtyard of the castle, he only had to turn to his right to find himself again, this time in person, in front of the black door that led to the crypts. Before advancing the last few meters that separated him from the entrance, he stopped short and took a deep breath. When he did this he observed that at that moment the reddish light of the comet was shining brightly on his back, casting a huge shadow of his person on the castle. A shadow that instead of black was a mixture of red and scarlet.

' _Blood and fire'_ is the color that my shadow casts under this comet. Instead of making him more nervous than he was thinking about what he might find in the crypts, seeing that reflection of his reassured Jon. He went for one of the lanterns hanging on either side of the door, above the fierce gray stone _Direwolf_ statues, and taking a deep breath, opened the door.

Just like in his nightmare, from the entrance only the first few steps could be seen and then everything was in darkness. Unlike in the dream world, Jon now had a lamp that allowed him to descend the spiral stairs in a certain half-light. When he finally reached the bottom of the stairs and looked back where he had come from, he only saw black and felt that something was pushing him forward. Without really knowing why, Jon decided to continue, and began to walk through the gloomy gallery, dark as the jaws of a wolf. The darkness was such that despite the lamp, he was unable to see beyond his hands.

Suddenly he felt a current of wind behind him, turning on himself immediately, with such speed that the lamp he was carrying slipped, hitting the stone of the tomb before which he had suddenly stopped, causing the oil and flames spread over the statue that topped the tomb. The statue of his aunt, Lyanna Stark.

"Fuck, by the _Seven Hells,_ _others_ take you fucking crow" Jon shouted to the creature responsible for his abrupt fright.

The huge black raven in question, seemed anything but dissuaded, as it landed on Jon's left shoulder, and began to peck at the wound that Lady Stark had inflicted on him. Trying to shake it off, Jon stumbled and nearly burned himself from the burning brand that had become the base of Lyanna Stark's grave, coming to his knees in front of her.

 _'I go down to the crypts and end up burning the remains of my father's sister. From this I go straight for the Wall'_ Jon lamented, as he looked for a way to put out the fire. The only thing he finds around him is gloom, a deafening silence accompanied by the crackling of the fire and the cold gazes of the statues of the winter kings perched on him, showing him their discontent with his person and letting him know that he does not belong there.

 _'If I hadn't left my clothes in the First Keep, I could have smothered the fire with my cloak'_ thought bitterly, as he took off his undergarment to try to use it as a fire extinguisher. At the first attempt the stupidity of his idea was demonstrated, as it only served to further fan the burning oil and to cause the fall of a metallic object that was in the statue of his aunt.

 _'What is that?'_ He got on all fours, trying to watch the flames glow on some metal object on the ground. Not far from his hands and from the base of his aunt's grave, Jon found the object that made the noise.

"Incredible" he muttered to himself as he leaned back on his knees to pick up what appeared to be an expensive dagger from the crypt floor.

 _'The Winter Kings were buried with their swords on the lap of their statues, maybe my father put this on my aunt's grave because it_ _belonged_ to _her'_ trying to understand where the dagger had come from, he brought it closer to the fire that it was slowly dying out, but of which there were still embers. In the light he was able to examine it better, and his jaw almost broke at what he saw. In his hands was a black _Dragonbone hilt_ , topped by a kind of gold flame. But what impressed Jon was the blade. It was a blade like only one before I had seen. It was like _Ice_ , the ancestral sword of House Stark, made of Valyrian steel.

"By the gods ..." Jon exclaimed as his voice carried with strange echoes through the darkening crypts of Winterfell again.

 _'With this dagger Eddard Stark could feed the entire north for a winter of twenty years, what it's doing at my aunt's grave? Was it hers? '_ Jon couldn't help wondering to himself.

" _Lies, Lies, Lies"_ suddenly croaked the raven, who was now perched on the stony, smudged and ash-filled face of his aunt's statue. Not knowing why, Jon addressed the raven "What is a lie, you damn hells raven?" yelled Jon exasperated and somewhat uncontrolled. Something had to be wrong to end the day of his name by fighting loudly with a crow.

' _If someone saw me, they would think I'm mad. And maybe I am. I am talking to a raven in the crypts of Winterfell, where I have come because a nightmare has made me think that here I would find some answer to my shit of existence. The only thing I have found has been a way to screw up my life even more, burning the grave of Lord Stark's sister.'_

At that moment, the feelings that he had during the nightmare resurfaced again, but in real life. The feeling of tightness in his chest and a cold sweat that begins to run through every inch of his body.

" _Everything_ " The raven answered with a male voice that seemed to come from the world beyond the grave and reverberated in the cavities of the crypt. Before he could process the situation, the raven began to cast a black shadow that looked like a man, next to which a kind of white thread of light danced around him, much to Jon's disbelief.

“What do you mean everything? What everything? What do you mean? Speak cursed animal ” Jon asked, exasperated and with a certain fear in his voice to the raven, trying to stop to think about what was happening before his eyes.

" _Bastard, bastard, bastard"_ was the croaked answer like the raven at first. The gloom offered by the embers of the fire in his aunt's grave was beginning to fade into the smoke and darkness that flooded the crypts. He could only see clearly the pale reflection of the blade of the dagger in his hand and the macabre dance between shadow and thread of light.

Afraid of what his eyes perceived were to be real, Jon tried to compose himself internally, ready to face whatever or whoever was in front of him. And whatever was in front of him, Jon was sure it was more than just a raven.

"Who you are? What do you want of me? What can anyone want from a bastard? From a stain in the history of House Stark? Whatever you are or whoever you are, you know that I am nothing more than that” Jon pronounced with a self pity that he didn't even know he had. A pity that it was as if he had lost everything in his life.

"I have a _thousand eyes and one"_ the male voice echoed, distilling into every note of his voice, something Jon could only describe as _magic._

" _You know nothing_ " said a female voice this time, but no less distant and magical than the previous one.

" _Snow, Snow, Snow"_ The raven croaked in a throaty way, as if disgusted to say so.

 _"You have to learn"_ The male voice from beyond the grave sounded again, bouncing off the walls dripping with melted ice, causing the crypts to be flooded with a kind of suspended mist. Jon felt like his body wasn't responding to him. He had long lost all the resolve with which he began this mad enterprise of venturing into the crypts. Now he only asked the _old gods_ to get him out of there unscathed, as quickly as possible, and the gods take pity on me for destroying my aunt's grave.

" _Mother, Mother, Mother"_ The crow seemed to be saying, laughing at him.

"How am I going to learn anything if I don't even know who my mother is?" he said totally dejected before the rubble and embers of what had been the grave of Lyanna Stark. The darkness was almost total. Jon thought his heart was going to explode, of how fast it was beating. Inside him he felt a heat that he had never experienced before, feeling as if he were burning again like in nightmare. But this time there was no flame, no fire engulfing him. It was a fire that was consuming him from within and denying him control of any member of his body. He could only be there, on his knees, with the dagger still firmly gripped in his right hand on his lap. Contemplating hypnotically at the space where the pale thread of white light and the shadow still stood in their dance.

 _"King, King, King"_ muttered the raven.

 _"You will_ _fly"_ the male voice intoned prophetically again.

Jon was in darkness. The darkness of the crypts and of his life. He didn't know what was happening but he wanted it to end now. Panic at what he was witnessing gripped him. He couldn't breathe well, he felt like his lungs were also on fire.

" _Die,_ die, die" the crow croaked ominously.

 _"It's the only solution"_ the female voice pronounced sweetly, as if she were singing a lullaby to sleep. Jon's internal pain was making him delirious. He felt like his insides were being consumed by fire. The cut on his face ripped open and began to bleed profusely, blood trickling down his cheek to pool on his hairless chin, eventually spilling onto the blade of the Valyrian steel dagger.

“Please make it stop! By all the gods, please make this pain stop!" Jon desperately implored, who had been able to move, would be stirring in pain as he felt his body burned from within, his heart beat so fast it was about to explode.

 _"You know how to stop it"_ the male voice spoke coldly, rumbling in such a way that it seemed that the earth began to shake. Or maybe it was him who was starting to shake from the pain.

 _"Only death pays for life"_ said the female voice with sorrow.

 _"Die, Die, Die_ _"_ the raven squealed pitifully.

Without even realizing the actions his body was taking, Jon found that his hand with the dagger was directed toward his heart.

When the dagger reached its target, he felt no pain. On the contrary, he was grateful. The fire was finally disappearing from within him, giving way to a welcome cold that was gradually spreading through his body. The hand with which the dagger had been driven descended to the side of his body as if a puppet had had its strings cut. His body was going numb, while the shadows and the cold enveloped him.

 _'This is the end of the Bastard of Winterfell'_ thought calmly and with a clarity that he had not had all day. He began to accept the idea that death might not be such a bad thing. As he listened to the ice melt on the embers of Lyanna Stark's grave, he felt his nostrils become intoxicated by the smell of ash and salt. The ground under his knees began to shake and he with it. His body began to stiffly convulse, not leaving the prostrate position before the smoking debris. The gaze would be closed looking towards the comet if it weren't for the fact that he was in the depths of the northern crypts. 

His heart pumped for the last time, but with such force that he ejected the dagger, as a powerful stream of blood surged out. His blood.

Interestingly, the last thoughts of his life revolved around the nightmare that led him to be here. More precisely to the words he had heard when the flame had enveloped him. It seemed like he was listening to them again.

_“Skori se mele qēlos ānogar se sȳndror derēbagon, Kivio Dārilaros, se tresy hen suvion, se tresy hen perzys, se zaldrīzes sigligon, se dārys isse se sȳndor kessa sagon sigligon arlī rȳ suvion se perzys, rȳ por hen dōron, se zirȳ kessa maghagon se ñāqes "_

The last thing he saw was his blood coming into contact with the embers of the lamp and then a sudden explosion of light. The cold in his body disappeared, giving way to a warmth that invaded him, a heat that spread embracing his soul, a warmth that comforted and healed him. After that.

_Darkness_

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloodraven and Shiera doing their thing  
> I've allowed myself the artistic license to put the Crypts just below the First Keep, but they are actually just on the opposite side of the north courtyard.  
> In case it is not clear, the room where Jon is going to train is the same one in the Lannistergate of AGoT, the window being the same one that Bran falls from in the canon  
> The next chapter is Jon's Name Day from Ned's POV ... If Jon thought he had a bad day, his uncle will soon try to challenge him for the position.  
> Notice! There will be 7/9 POV that will have this fiction. There will be POV with a lot of conversation and others that generally opt more for the internal monologue. You don't expect Jon to be as talkative as Tyrion, or to make the ironic comments like Jaime. My main motivation for this Fiction (What do I intend to finish because I already have all the points and twists of the plot, as well as a general outline of who is who, for whom and why. It will be a long fiction, with 4,500 chapters words onwards.) has always been the comparative Jon of the books with Aegon the Dragon. In what is known of Aegon, he is a character very similar to Jon, and the story tends to downplay the importance his sisters and intimates had in the conquest. I see both of them as introverted guys, with great leadership skills and great strategic skills.And they both have the same flaws. If not for Visenya Aegon held the same fate as Jon in the guard, for example


	3. Eddard I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned remembers having such a day like that, fifteen years ago.

** Thirteenth day of the Fifth moon of 297 BC Winterfell, The North  
**

_“’_ _Promise me’, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of **winter** **roses**.”_ A GoT Eddard XV

* * *

' _This day seems to have no end'_ Eddard sighed as he went through the letters to and from his northern vassals that he had on his desk. It was terrible enough to think every day about the situation the boy had to live in, but the days of Jon's name were the worst days of the year in Eddard Stark's life in fiveteen years.

"The _others_ take you Rhaegar Targaryen" he muttered in the solitude of his solar. The memory of the damned tournament came back to him as he gazed at the shadows cast by the candles on the objects on his lot, as vivid as a dream.

It was the year of the false spring, and he was eighteen again. He could see the deep green of the grass blowing in the wind. Warm days and cool nights and the sweet taste of wine. He remembered Brandon's laugh, and Robert's bravery in _melee_ . The way he laughed made some compare him to the _Laughing Storm_ , as he knocked down men to his left and right with his massive hammer. He remembered Jaime Lannister, the _golden lion_ who, after kneeling in the grass in front of the king's pavilion and taking his vows to protect and defend King Aerys, became the _white lion_. Subsequently, Ser Oswel Whent helped Jaime to his feet, and Lord Commander Ser Gerold Hightower himself, draped the snow-white cape of the Kingsguard around his shoulders. The six white swords were there to welcome their new brother. He remembered the smile of a _fallen star_ as they danced in Harrenhal's Great Hall of Hundred Chimneys ...

However, when the joust began, the days belonged to Rhaegar Targaryen. The crown prince wore the armor in which he would die: a shiny black plaque with the three-headed dragon of his house wrought in rubies on the chest. A scarlet silk feather fell from his helmet topped with the three-headed dragon in red. During that tournament it seemed that no spear could touch him. He beat Brandon, Bronze Yohn Royce, and even the extraordinary Ser Arthur Dayne.

Robert had been joking with Jon Arryn and old Lord Hunter when the prince circled the field after dismounting Ser Barristan in the last joust, to claim the champion's crown. Every time Ned remembered the moment, he tensed again as if he were reliving it. The moment when all smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his jet black destrier to bypass his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martel, to place the crown of the queen of love and beauty on the lap of Lyanna. He could still see her: her smoky eyes like Valyrian steel shining, smile on her face, on her lap a wreath of winter roses, blue as frost.

After that, madness. Madness and stupidity, spreading like _wildfire_ throughout _Westeros._

And it all ended on this day, fifteen years ago. Seven fought three and only two remained. And a memory that would never leave him and that haunted him at night. However, these were not ordinary three.

They were waiting before a round tower, with the red mountains of Dorne behind them, their white cloaks blowing in the wind. And these were not shadows; Their faces were clear before his eyes, even now. Ser Arthur Dayne, _The Sword of The Morning_ , had a sad smile on his lips. The hilt of the _Dawn_ greatsword, forged from the remains of a fallen star, loomed over his right shoulder. Ser Oswel Whent was on one knee, sharpening his blade with a whetstone. Through his white enamel helmet, the black bat of his house spread his wings. With them was old Ser Gerold Hightower, the legendary _White Bull_. All of them with their resplendent steel armor with silver enamel with the three heads of the dragon in red engraved on their chests.

"I looked for you in the Trident," Ned told them.

"We weren't there" Ser Gerold replied.

"Woe to the Usurper if we had been" said Ser Oswell.

"When _King's Landing_ fell, Ser Jaime killed your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were."

"Far away" Ser Gerold said, "or Aerys would still sit on the Iron Throne, and our false brother would have been tried and executed instead of dying with undeserved glory" spat the last part.

"I was at Storm's End to set up the siege" Ned told them.

“The Lords Tyrell and Redwyne surrendered their banners, and all their knights _bended the knee_ to offer fealty. I thought maybe you would like to do the same now"

" _Our knees don't bend_ easily, _Lord Stark_ " Ser Arthur Dayne answered his question.

"Ser Willem Darry has fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you could have sailed with him."

"Ser Willem is a good and loyal man" said Ser Oswell.

" _But not from the Kingsguard_ " Ser Gerold noted. "The _Kingsguard_ does not flee".

"Then or now" Ser Arthur said.

" _We swore a vow for life_ " explained old Ser Gerold with all the simplicity in the world.

Ned's specters moved beside him, shadow blades in hand. It was seven against three.

"And now it begins" said Ser Arthur Dayne, _the Sword of the morning_. He drew Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade forged from the material of a fallen star glowed pale like a milky crystal, alive with light.

"No" Ned said with sadness in his voice as he had to face whom could have been his brother-in-law if the world was a fair place.

"Now finish" When they came together in a torrent of steel and shadows, he could hear Lyanna screaming.

"Eddard!" She yelled.

A storm of rose petals blew across the sky, as a _fallen star_ bathed in blood fell into the shadows of the Red Mountains.

Since then, the day of Jon's name served as a reminder of the death of his sister and a war based on lies that cost the lives of so many, and so much within his family. Add to that the daily problems of being the Warden and lord protector of the north.

 _'Which Brandon, or my father would have been able to cope with much better than me'_ Ned thought to himself, letting out a sigh from the depths of his being, who did not even know how long he had been storing.

 _'At least he's intact and whole. I keep fulfilling the promise Lya, I will never fail you. What would you tell me if you saw me now? Would you forgive that I usurped your precious son, my nephew, and kept from him who his parents were and his true heritage?'_ That question haunted him permanently. It was one of the main reasons Ned hid who his mother was from Jon. Knowing Lyanna's response through him. But Ned was sure he took the right path. Robert was his brother in everything but blood and the Targaryens were doomed one way or another.

 _'The boy did not deserve to lead that life in the snake's nest that is the south. No. He is better here with his family, who love him. Without Targaryen influence he can never be like his grandfather'_ Ned reflected

 _'And when Jon have taken the Night's Wacht vows, I can tell him who his parents were. On the Wall he will not be able to claim anything because he will have forfeited all titles, and therefore it will not be a problem for Robert or his descendants. They will have no reason to go after him. There he will be able to rise through the ranks without being judged for his supposed bastardy, and could even become Lord Commander._ ' It was the only thing he could do, he always told himself when he was contemplating Jon's future.

He had never had too much love for the Targaryen, and to grew at the side of someone who had them a hatred as deep as Robert, since his parents died at the wreck back from look for a wife of Valyrian blood for the _Crown Prince_ in Essos, did not help to increase Ned's esteem for the _dragons_. To him they were just distant figures, almost more from the lessons of the masters and legend, than people with whom he would have contact, and he did not care what they did as long as they left his family aside. Of course, rumors of Aerys's madness reached him too, but he always thought that the _Crown Prince_ would be a good king when he had to rule. The people adored him and had never heard a bad word, not even from Robert other than that he had no fighter's dough, which considering his hatred of the Targaryens was almost a compliment. All that changed with the seven-time cursed Tournament at Harrenhal.

' _When i rose up arms against The Mad king for the murder of my father and my brother, late I realized that the rebellion would had broken out, even had not been Lyanna involved, ending with the death of all Targaryen in Westeros'_ not doing well Ned to think of dead Targaryens. His body turned as he remembered as if he were seeing it at that moment, the semi-charred body of Little Rhaenys, the shattered head of baby Aegon next to his mother split in half, wrapped in a crimson Lannister banner.

' _A_ _t least that day there was a Lannister who had some honor' Ned_ thought with a certain sarcasm.

' _What I would have given to see Tywin Lannister's face when he was told that his son, his Golden Lion, after killing Aerys, the king he had sworn to protect, fought as the reincarnated Warrior to try sterilely, to save the Mad king granddaughter'_ He did not see the body of the _Kingslayer_ , but the Great Jon Umber, Mark Ryswell and Martyn Cassel swore to him by the ancient gods that there should be no more terrible death than dying burned by _wildfire_ , because it was not normal the way the armor had melted into the remains of what was once Jaime Lannister.

' _The Kingslayer who died defending the Princess'_ A song for the bards would think his daughter Sansa.

' _Tywin's bane I would rather say'_ Eddard thought jokingly to himself. But he was interrupted in his thoughts when someone knocked on the door of his lot.

" _Knock, knock, knock"_ The massive black _Ironwood_ door rang, as old and made of the same material as the doors found in the _Godswood_ and the crypts. He had no idea who could want something with him at the hour of the wolf.

"Yes, come in" Ned said in his neutral voice, trying not to show the fatigue accumulated during the day.

"My lord" He was greeted by his wife, who after opening the door made a small bow with her head asking for permission to enter the solar.

"Tell me my lady, what do you need? If you're here asking why I haven't been to our joint bedroom, it's because I'm getting everything ready for the next meeting with the west shore banners. I need their defenses to be strengthened in case the _Ironborn_ are tempted to revert to their old ways. Not to mention the constant _raids_ of _wildlings_ south of the _Wall_ and _Bear's Island_ ” Ned told his wife, surprised by the official voice of a great lord that over the years he had managed to develop, with which he addressed his wife. A voice that showed no fissures or emotions, only coldness.

' _During the Harrenhal tournament I was called the cuddly wolf. They called me the silent wolf during the Rebellion, but after it, they should have come to call me the cold wolf, because that is how that seven times damn war left me inside'_ thought bitterly to himself, while with a gesture of the head he invited to Cat to sit in the chair that was in front of his desk. Looking at his wife's expression, Ned saw that she exuded concern and annoyance.

 _'What has Jon done now? Make noise when breathing? Wasn't my promise this noon enough for you that sooner or later the boy will go to the wall and never have to see him again?_ 'Letting out all the air he had in his lungs, while resting a hand on his desk, he asked without beating around the bush.

"What is that expression Cat? I told you I was going to talk to Jon about the _Night's Wacht_ and I have, but you can't expect him to leave on the same day. You have to give him time to accept it and enjoy a little more innocence with his brothers and sisters. He will not have my name, but he has my blood and I am not going to send it to the wall against its will” Eddard said sharply. In hindsight something inside him told him that it had been a mistake that he was the one to suggest the idea of Jon carving a future in the wall, just on the day of his name.

' _What a gift I have given him! And on top of that, I've ended up having to re-navigate around why he doesn't even know who his mother is! The others take Maester Luwin and Cat!'_ If it hadn't been for Jon's demonstration of swordplay during training, the maester would never have mentioned the need for good men to the Watch. And his wife. His wife soon saw the option she had been waiting all her life to get rid of the boy. And watching Jon fight that way reminded him so much of the _Last Dragon_ on the Trident...Ned shivered thinking someone could put all the pieces together if they saw him fighting like this.

' _Rhaegar was not the last Dragon'_ thought Ned with panic and a strange pride. _'Although i don't want to admit it, but not for the reasons that Cat thinks, the safest thing for the Starks is that Jon goes to the Wall'_

Catelyn was already sitting in front of him and her tension had decreased, but she still gave the feeling that she would jump anytime. “I'm glad to hear that the _bastard_ is finally leaving here. You've seen that he almost killed Robb today, but no Ned, it's not because he goes to the wall immediately, it's because of what he told me this afternoon before dinner” Catelyn replied quickly and sullenly. Although he wanted to defend Jon, there was no point in insisting that he not refer to the boy that way. Ultimately it was Ned's fault that the boy might be taken for a bastard. His wife's gaze oscillated between her hands that she had in her lap tracing patterns on her skirt, to look at his face, to look at her lap again, as if looking for a way to say her next words. The turquoise eyes of his wife, which in so many moments had been a source of peace and comfort, seemed to look at him with disdain.

"Ned, the bastard has not had enough to humiliate your first-born, _your heir in_ front of all of Winterfell, but also has had the audacity to _humiliate me in_ front of the servants" His wife's gesture was one of poorly contained indignation. Interlocking her hands over and over again, making the nervousness clear.

' _By the gods, what happened this afternoon between Cat and Jon?'_ Seeing herattitude and the outrage oozing from every pore on Cat's skin, it must have been something big.

' _And explain why Jon hasn't shown up in the Great Hall for dinner.'_ Now Catelyn had all of Ned's attention. Leaning his elbows on his desk to rest his chin on the back of his hands, while straightening his back, he looked coldly at his wife.

"What _humiliation_ have you suffered at the hands of the boy?" he asked, pronouncing the end with a certain sadness and the beginning with a certain sarcasm. Catelyn seemed to notice, for she was instantly furious.

"My lord, I see that even without knowing what happened, you are already defending the _bastard_ before _your real family"_ The acidity and the tone in which Cat had said the words left Eddard totally out of place, and before he recovered, Cat decided to hit the hot iron.

“While I was going about my duties as _Lady of Winterfell_ , doing an account of the necessary repairs on the door of the _Godswood_ with Beth Cassel and Vayon Poole, _your bastard_ knocked me to the ground because he was looking at his wolf and not straight ahead. But that's not the worst, my lord." Ned's wife said, spreading her arms pompously towards him, as if she were presenting the case in fornt of a court. Ned sometimes couldn't quite understand _Southerners_ and their detours to deal with things, instead of going straight to the point they wanted to discuss. With a wave of his hand, he urged her to continue with what had happened.

“When I asked him what he was doing in a section that could only be accessed with permission from the Stark family, the boy replied that he only wanted go to meditate with the _old gods_ and that he had never been aware that he needed to ask permission to access the sacred forest. At the reminder if his status, he told me that I was the least indicated to talk about who could access the _Godswood_ , since at least although a bastard, he had _wolf_ blood in his veins and I was a _Trout, the dinner of the wolves_ " finished his wife putting her hands to her face as if she were about to cry.

"Cat ..." Ned tried to speak, but his wife wasn't going to let him.

"The boy can't stay here" Catelyn said dryly, cutting him off. “He is your son, not mine. I never want to see him again, nor do I want to see him approach our children.”

The look in answer that Ned gave her was one of pure anguish “By the gods, Cat, are you going to forbid a motherless child, who barely has five and ten days of his name, not to speak or have contact with his family? Don't you have a heart?” Ned implored with more compassion than conviction.

"Motherless ... Ned, is the boy's mother dead?" Catelyn asked with a surprised face.

 _'Oh shit, in getting carried away by my emotions I've said more than I've ever said about Jon's mother. Others take me!'_ Ned thought heartily, as he sighed deeply.

 _'I wish Brandon was here_ ' He thought bitterly as he watched as Cat shifted nervously in the chair, waiting for some response. The silence in the solar was beginning to be deafening,

' _Brandon would have already made up some excuse and changed the subject. Or he would have changed the subject outright and taken her into the bedroom to perform marital duties.'_ The way to distract women from his late brother was always the same. Make up excuses to get out of trouble and distract them to fall on them when they were unprepared

' _A true wild wolf, who never thought about the consequences of his actions'_ Like Ned's sister, he remembered sadly. Not like him. He did not know how to break the rules. Honor and Duty were his two pillars in life. He couldn't lie to Cat any more than he had lied to her. His duty was also towards her and he had stained it enough. Just like his honor, though not because of Jon, never because of Jon. A tear began to fall down his face without him being able to control it.

"Yes. She is dead. She died just before the _Rebellion_ ended and I swore to her on her deathbed that I would take care of the boy. It's all you need to know. Never ask me about her again. I have loved only you and our family for fifteen years." Ned said, cold as ice and with infinite sorrow as he stared at her, making it clear that it was not a subject that would be discussed again. "He is my blood, and that is all you need to know."

Catelyn relaxed her posture a little when she saw the pain on his face and surely knowing there was no other woman alive that he wanted to be with.

 _'And it was true, the only woman I loved more than Catelyn died when she was thrown into the sea, but she did not love me at first, nor was she the mother of any Stark'_ thought sadly, as he reflected on life with his wife. Ned had married her in Brandon's place, as custom decreed, but it was a marriage born in the shadows of his dead brother, just like someone else's. The shadow of a woman he would not name, the woman who had given birth to Jon.

“Ned, I never imagined she was dead. I always thought ... I thought ... I thought he was the son from some whore or servant who lived in the south, and that she was blackmailing you by revealing to the world with whom Eddard Stark had broken his honor and that's why the boy had to be here ... Or that she was someone that you continued to love and that was a danger to me and my children” His wife told him as she got up running from her chair, to go around the desk and throw herself on his lap to hug him.

Before she could say anything more, he wrapped his arms around her, letting all the tension and sadness that he had stored in his body give way.

' _If it is not with my wife with whom I can vent, I can not do it with anyone'_ With a mixture of happiness and fatigue.

“Now I can understand why you brought the boy here. It would not have been honorable to leave him to his fate at such a young age. But Ned, that doesn't mean he has to stay any longer. You have already given more than many parents to their bastard children " Catelyn said, looking into his eyes from below, with a look that Ned had to shield his heart against the silent attractiveness in his wife's eyes.

"They say that your friend Robert has been the father of more than a dozen bastards and does not know where they are or what their lives are. You have already fulfilled your promise Ned, the boy has to go" she said again, looking at his eyes, but with a hardness that was not present in her previous gaze, as she withdrew from his embrace.

" _Blam_ " Before Ned could answer his wife, the ancient wooden door clanged against the wall of his lot, appearing a congested Jory Cassel. He was agitated in the wrong clothes, as if he had just got out of bed and had been awakened by some emergency. His face expressed concern, confusion and _fear?_

"Lord Stark, I am very sorry for my abrupt entrance, but a situation has arisen that surpasses my status" Jory said in a resigned but sure tone. Something important must be, if the captain of the castle guard cannot deal with it, Ned thought as his wife rose from his lap, to allow him to get up.

"What happened?" Eddard told him in a concise and direct way, after in five steps, stand in front of the fireplace that gave heat from the center of his solar.

“We don't know very well. The only thing we know is that one of the lamps on the door of the crypts is missing, whose door is not visible and from whose entrance smoke is coming out ... but it is not a natural smoke, my lord” Jory told him in a lower and lower tone, finishing the sentence almost in a whisper. Between the expression, the nervous look, and what he had just said, the captain of his guard had his undivided attention. He could then argue with Cat about Jon's future.

"And how someone hasn't went to investigate what happened, ehm?" Eddard growled reproachfully.

"My lord, after what happened this afternoon with the _bast ..._ with the boy and Lady Stark, the staff do not want to go to any area restricted to the family without express authorization from you or your lady wife" said the captain of his guard. Jory's brown eyes darted between his feet and where Ned knew his wife stood behind him.

Turning to see his wife's contrite face, he shot her a disapproving look and went for his cloak. _'For the gods! The only thing missing thing rigth now is that the tensions between Jon and Catelyn impede the proper functioning of my castle'_ sighed Eddard.

Arriving at the door, where Jory was still standing, he began to give him concise instructions to act until he was able to assess the situation.

“Gather about five men with torches and begin to choose as many to form a chain of buckets of water from the main well to the crypts. If there's a fire down there, it won't be easy to access it, although it's possible that…” but his orders were interrupted by Jory Cassel's nervous voice.

"My lord, you _do not understand. You have to see it. The Smoke_ …. _that smoke is not natural_. The men who were on watch at the north gate have said that suddenly the red star appeared in the sky, and when they looked again at the north courtyard ... well, it was submerged in the smoke that came from the crypts. No one has dared to approach beyond the barracks and the servants' wing. People are afraid that it is an omen from the _old gods_ and the _Winter Kings._ _A bad omen "_

" _Red star? Bad omens?"_ Ned said, almost choking, in a voice that conveyed all his disbelief at what they were telling him. "By the _old and new Gods_ Jory, what relationship has a star in the sky, no matter what color it has, with whatever is happening in the crypts of Winterfell, probably that the wind has thrown the lamp and has burned the door” Ned spoke firmly, trying to show the ridiculousness of the situation that the young Cassel was relating to him, while he recovered his facade and tone of lord.

"I'm just telling you that you must see it to understand it, my lord," Jory settled.

In view of the stubbornnes in the captain of his guard, and since Ned did not really want to continue the discussion with his wife, he decided to take command of the operations personally.

"Fine Jory, _you_ will accompany me" He said fixing his gray eyes on the son of his old friend Martyn Cassel. Sometimes he regretted that the brave Northerners who accompanied him to Dorne could not have received a better eternal rest.

He turned to Cat, with a look that didn't admit of argument. "My lady, you go to the family wing and summon our entire family to the Great Hall." After that, his wife Catelyn bowed briefly and left the solar before him and Jory.

Eddard and his captain of the guard began navigating the maze of corridors that formed the ancient Castle of Winterfell. As he went out into the main courtyard, Ned could actually see a red star soaring through the sky that it seemed to leave a bleeding wound on the veil of night. Surely Jory was right about something. This was not just another star, and if it really was an omen of something, it could only augur one thing. ' _Dragons'_

As he crossed under the bridge connecting the _Great Keep_ and the armory, he began to see the smoke that Jory had been so nervous about.

' _If I have to be honest, it doesn't inspire any sense of tranquility either.'_ Ned meditated internally, while having a bad feeling about what was happening. Of course, that vaporous and ethereal whitish smoke that thickened as they approached the north courtyard and the entrance to the crypts, did not give the impression of being of this world. It seemed _magical._

When they reached a few meters from the crypts, the only thing that could be seen among the white smoke, almost misty, was the semi-darkness of the only lamp that remained in the entrance and the abnormal shadows that he and Jory Cassel cast when they were reflected by the reddish light from the star that was just above the _First Keep_.

Before they could continue advancing a thud began to come out of the bowels of the earth. A noise that seemed to be the echo of the blow of the magical hammer of the _Children of the Forest_ against the _Neck._

_"VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM"_

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Ned barely heard a puzzled Jory Cassel. He did not know what to answer to the Cassel, because the only thing he was able to establish was the noise that was increasing, beginning to be deafening. Suddenly the noise stopped. But just as quickly as it disappeared, it came back, but multiplied infinitely. It seemed like the noise that a collision between mountains would make.

 _'Is this what the last of Valyria experienced during the Doom? So did the Fourteen Flames resound before they forever and ever destroyed the Lands of Eternal Summer?'_ wondered a terrified Eddard Stark now. It was true that you can only be brave when you are afraid, but what he had was not fear, it was panic, anguish and the inability to move a single fiber of his body.

" _VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM"_ The noise was driving him crazy, and looking at Jory, it seemed that it was affecting him too, because suddenly he fell to the ground.

Without knowing why, suddenly he also lost his vertical, and there, when he felt the ground shake under his body, he understood that the noise was a consequence of the earth shaking, the castle shaking, and surely the whole North was shaking.

In an instant, all the smoke was sucked in through the crypt doors like the lungs of a person after drowning. The noise and shaking stopped. There was only a deathly silence in the entire castle. The north courtyard, completely bathed in the reddish light of the star that was in axis with the old fortress, wich was completely deserted except for him and Jory, who was the color of the _Weirdwood_ that was in the _Godswood._

_'If I had to bet on a dragon, I'd bet I'm not much better than him What the hells just happened What…'_

_"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM"_ arose a column of fire from the bowels of the earth, from where less than a second ago, were the ancient crypts and the old _First Keep,_ now evaporated by dark fire. It was like being in front of a red-hot lava geyser that rose as if trying to climb up to the sky where the star was, staining the entire _northern_ sky in a bloody red between them _._ Bathing all of _Westeros,_ all of _Essos_ and the _Lands beyond the Wall_ in red _._

 _'May the old gods have mercy on us'_ prayed Eddard Stark.


	4. The Gray Rat / Jon III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First reactions to the Comet and a serving of magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than usual, but because the next one is going to be quite long. If I tried to do it all in one it would not have been as consistent.  
> There are non-fixed POVs, like the first in this chapter that serve as interludes, so we can see out of the 7/10 pov that there will be fixed depending on which arc we are in. Jon, Eddard, Rhaegar, Arya, Bran ... and even here I can count for now.  
> The story will consist of a minimum of 5 main arches and several more secondary ones. I already have the points and spins until the endgame, now I hope not to screw it up like D&D, but at least if I do, I will do it with love Lol
> 
> Obviously this is an AU, but I try to be true to the lore of Canon  
> Ex1. I bet a thousand dragons Shireen is also going to be roasted in the books to try to resurrect Stannis, but she will resurrect Jon. Every time Beric has died, someone else has died. Same with Stoneheart and / or Dany's Dragons. Therefore, a resurrection costs a death and from there I do not get out  
> Ex2. Targs can be burned save for the fire of their bound dragon. In cases of blood magic, their hair and hair are burned.  
> Ex3. Dragons will have saddles because they do. The fucking climax of the Dance is Daemon loosening the chains of his mount in Caraxes to jump on Aemond's Vhagar and nail the Dark Sister in his fucking eye. Hence, she is later rescued by Bloodraven.  
> Ex4. I will not alter the conquest, but the motivations of it (as they do not know, there I will take the opportunity to expand my AU and put things of my own harvest but close to the lore) And that is what I plan to do with all the nooks ftom the lore and the universe of ASOIAF / AWOIAF / F & B. As of Aegon little is known about his personality well ... the same
> 
> There will be tributes and great winks to Tolkien, who will never finish appreciating the genius that was the Silmarillion. It's the first thing he writes during the IWW and establishes the whole fucking universe on which he bases his work. Create rules and a dynamic. Create some structures. There would be no ring without sauron, there is no sauron without nümenor / destruction of Beleriand. There is no nümenor / destruction of Beleriand without Noldors, Feanor and the Silmarils ...
> 
> That is what Grrm does with the Help of AWOIAF to develop TWoW and ADoS  
> Baelish kills Jon Arryn because killing him can introduce someone into the game to cause chaos / power vacuum through which to ascend (Ned). The cersei / jaime relationship allows these actions. Varys monitors that information, but saves it for the time when he can lead viserys into westeros and then hit with faegon (Varys-Illyrio conversation)  
> If there is no lannister incest, Baelish would have looked for another way to cause chaos, for example
> 
> Or the north (which has more than 3 houses, quite a few internal conflicts, and the 4/5 largest city in Westeros) is not going to fight and bend the knee for the Targaryen house from point 1. The free folk are not going to cross the wall because yes, and if it does it will be by extremes and not without violent reluctance.

** The Gray Rat, 13th day of the fifth moon of 297 BC Dragonstone, Blackwater Bay, Westeros **

_"Robert did you an injustice," Maester Cressen replied carefully, "yet he had sound reasons. Dragonstone had long been the seat of House Targaryen. He needed a man's strength to rule here, and Renly was but a child."_ ACoK Prologue _ **  
**_

* * *

The master was outside his rooms, on the balcony swept by the cold wind of the night, now cloudy. It was here that the crows arrived after a long flight. His droppings peppered the gargoyles towering four meters high on either side of him, a hellhound and a _wyvern._ , two of the thousands that sprouted on the walls of the old fortress. He did not believe in omens. But what happened that night ... old as he was, Cressen felt something in his bones. Leaning against one of the gargoyles, he pondered the events, listening as the distant waves crashed on the rough black stone that lay everywhere on the island. First the tremor, then the volcano began to expel smoke, then the noise of the seven hells. Then even more seeming tremors were going to split the island and the volcano eruption. Oh, and finally the comet, especially the comet.

 _'Talking to gargoyles of prophecies in the sky, the next thing I will be to believe is that the long night was true ?! Grumpkin and Snarks? '_ Cressen wailed as he breathed in resignation and left his balcony, and grabbed the book he had come for before heading to the _Painted Table Room_ where he had been summoned by the lord of _Dragonstone_ , no doubt to discuss the star and the prophecy. And there was him thinking about that again.

 _'At what point has the hard-earned wisdom of a lifetime deserted me as well as my health and strength? What madness had invaded my body, when superstition fill my head like an ignorant field hand? '_ He was a master, trained and with a chain forged in the great _Oldtown_ Citadel, Cressen thought with resentment of himself.

 _'Castles are not friendly places for the frail'_ his aching bones reminded Cressen as he ascended the endless stairs of the _Sea Dragon Tower_. Lord Stannis would be found in the _Hall of the_ _Painted Table_ , located atop the _Stone Drum_ , _Dragonstone's_ central Fortress, named for the way its ancient walls echoed and rumbled during storms. To reach it, he had to cross the gallery, traverse the middle wall and the inner wall with its guardian gargoyles and black iron gates, and climb more steps than the old master wanted to see.

As he ascended the endless steps that led him to his destination, he could not help thinking about the history of the castle and the omen that the comet that had appeared in the north of the night landscape could mean.

A grim place, _Dragonstone._ Built by the ancient Valyrians with arcane arts, dragon fire, and sorcery. Otherwise the ability to liquefy and mold the stone was not explained, giving shape to a castle that had the appearance of multiple dragons. The architecture of the castle exclaimed _Dragon_ where the eyes will rest. A pair of gigantic stone wings roofed the armory and forge, and the dragon's tails form arches and stairways. The doors were placed in such a way that they fit the mouth of the stone dragons, producing the sensation of entering the dark jaws of a dragon. Instead of merlons, the grotesque gargoyles serve as battlements topping each of the three mighty, massive walls along the three curtain walls. The designs varied between _basilisks, demons, griffins, hounds, manticores, minotaurs, firewyrms_ and other hideous creatures from legends and tales to scare children. Statues in the shape of dragons were present throughout the castle. These could be found throughout the castle, even in the small details, such as the dragons that framed the doors and dragon claws as a torch holder. 

The castle's dark reputation seemed more than justified. It had seen Aegon the _Conqueror_ die from a sudden collapse in the _Hall of the Painted Table_ . Within its walls Maegor the _Cruel_ had been raised and grown. And _The Cruel_ himself chose it as the starting point for his wars that ravaged _Westeros_. The black and magical rock witnessed one of the final chapters of the _Dance,_ with the death of Rhaenyra in the jaws of _Sunfyre,_ while her son, the future Aegon III watched as his mother was devoured by the golden dragon.

When he reached the _Stone Drum,_ the guards outside recognized him immediately and gave way to a new flight of stairs.

 _'It is not only dark because of what is known to have happened in this castle, but especially because of what is believed to have happened in this castle'_ Cressen whispered internally as he continued to think about the black history of the castle. It had always flown over the castle, legend has it that Visenya Targaryen practiced blood magic in these same halls, offering human sacrifices to the flames to ensure her brother's triumphs in battle.

 _'What can be expected of the Targaryens'_ thought _the maester_ with disgust, while with a gesture he asked the guard at the door for access to the _Room_ _of the_ _Painted Table._

Lord Stannis Baratheon's solar was a large round room with black stone walls and four narrow windows that looked out on the four points of the compass. In the center of the chamber was the large table from which it took its name, a massive slab of carved wood created at the command of Aegon Targaryen in the days leading up to his Conquest. The _Painted Table_ was over fifty feet long, perhaps half as wide at its widest point, but less than four feet wide at its narrowest point. Aegon's carpenters had carved it in the image and likeness of the land of _Westeros_ , gouging each bay and peninsula so that the table did not run in a straight line. On its surface, obscured by nearly three hundred years of varnish, were painted _Seven Kingdoms_ as they had been in the days of Aegon; Rivers and mountains, castles and cities, lakes and forests, without borders between kingdoms.

There was a single chair in the room, carefully positioned in the precise spot that Dragonstone occupied off the coast of Westeros, and raised to give a good view of the table. Sitting in the chair was the _Westeros Master of Ships,_ dressed in a tight-laced leather jacket and brown woolen breeches. When Cressen entered, Lord Stannis looked up.

“About time old man, I think I remember calling you when the shaking started.” There was no hint of warmth in his voice; there was seldom any.

"My Lord" Cressen greeted Lord Stannis while bowing.

“The volcano that is on _my_ island and that the _gray rats_ claimed was _never ever_ going to erupt, coincidentally, it _has erupted again_ . What explanation do you have for this, _Maester_?" The King's middle brother said sharply and curtly. The man who forced his troops to eat the bodies of fallen comrades during the siege of _Storm's End._ That man was questioning the veracity of the knowledge of the _Citadel_ and therefore him, as its maester.

He was nervous thinking about what was going to be questioned about the comet and its prophecies, not that its usefulness would end up being questioned. Swallowing to try to undo the knot that had formed, Cressen answered him, interlacing and unlacing his hands under the wide sleeves of his gray robe.

“My lord, in the _Citadel it_ was thought that it had no possibility of re-erupting, but it was never denied that it continued to expel gases and vapors. The flames of the world are something still unfathomable even for the knowledge of the arch-masters ”before Lord Stannis could interrupt him, as his gesture denoted that his explanation was not finishing convincing him, Cressen continued.

"However my Lord, I thought you were calling me to discuss something else ... to talk about the comet that has appeared in the north of the sky ..." he uttered with an uncertain and trembling voice.

" _¿Comet?_ What are, you old man, talking about? Is age affecting you and has you become simple of mind? " Lord Stannis answered, with the same coldness as always, but beginning to exude annoyance.

"You see my lord ... we are in _Dragonstone_ ... so I thought you ..." before he could finish the sentence his lord interrupted him abruptly.

“Yes. I know we are in _Dragonstone_ , thank you. What it is Cressen ? Stop beating around the bush and tell me at once the nonsense you were thinking were coming to tell me "

At the order of his lord, the maester asked permission with his head to approach the table that emulated the _Seven Kingdoms_. He laboriously deposited the heavy book of _Grand Master Luca,_ the first Grand Master of Aegon the Conqueror.

"My lord, this book in the castle library explains the various prophecies surrounding House Targaryen, especially one about a red comet."

Opening the heavy tanned leather cover of the ancient book, _House Targaryen Myths and Prophecies,_ as he searched for the page that referenced what the old master thought was happening

_When the red star crosses the sky_

_Be friend or foe_

_Gods, First Men,_

_Andals or Rhoynar,_

_or of the Old Blood._

_Neither law nor love nor alliance of swords_

_fear, nor danger, nor fate itself,_

_would defend him from Aegon Targaryen, and the offspring of the Dragon_

_whom he hides or treasures, or takes in his hand,_

_the inheritance of the blood of Valyria_

_This I swear Visenya Targaryen,_

_Death will overtake my family's enemies before the day is out,_

_The long night will fall! And the Dragon will Triumph! Hear my word_

_Gods of Flames! With the everlasting_

_darkness curse me and my offspring if I ever break the oath._

_Over one of the flames of the world, hear it as witnesses_

_and remember my promise!_

"My lord, don't you see? It is a sign that the Targaryens will return and you are occupying their ancestral site." The maester answered, agitated and fearful.

Lord Stannis fixed his eyes on the text, frowning. He read it once, read it twice and the third time, sighed and addressed Cressen with a raised eyebrow with a look that seemed to be mocking him.

 _"Are you_ suggesting that suddenly through _this comet the Beggar King will be able to conquer the west like Aegon and his sisters?" Lord Stannis_ made a pause and gave a deep sigh “Enough of trickery and magic Cressen, Next time I need some real knowledge, I'll call Pylos. Now leave, and when you leave, ask one of the guards to summon my wife and the lady who has to introduce me "

Without making a sound, Cressen bowed to his lord, turned, and left the _Painted Table Room_. Lord Stannis was probably right. The comet was nothing more than a normal phenomenon in the sky. Surely if you searched the reports of the citadel, records of its sighting in other times will appear. He should feel ashamed, as a maester, Cressen should not believe in myths and prophecies.

"Lord Stannis has ordered that Lady Baratheon be summoned" he said to one of the guards after leaving, heading towards the library of the black fortress, in search of something that would confirm the irrational of his thoughts, in that misty and faintly tinged red night at _D_ _ragonstone_

* * *

** Jon III, Indeterminate **

_"Dragons made their lairs in the smoky caverns of the Dragonmont above the castle." F &B Time of Testing **  
**_

****

* * *

The darkness without any sensation beyond the searing heat that enveloped him and for which he was grateful, suddenly disappeared, to give way to a dazzling, blinding light.

 _'Is this the afterlife?_ 'Jon wondered bitterly. As he tried to adjust his vision he began to perceive that the blinding light was the Sun shrouded in clouds and _Smoke_? that was on the site where Jon had appeared. His other senses seemed to return, little by little to regain their sensations. Soon the smell of the sea, salt, and ash permeated his nostrils. The hot, humid wind caressed his face and bare back.

' _Damn ... If I had taken the cloak when I came up with the brilliant idea of going down to the crypts, I could have put out the fire, and I would not be here, wherever I am, dead' he_ thought laconically, trying to adjust to his new environment. No matter how much he thought about it, he was unable to understand anything about his situation. When he finally managed to focus his eyes, he began to see what looked like a mountain of black earth whose peak was hidden behind a smoke that hid its top. A volcano.

 _'By the old and new Gods, how did I get to a volcano?'_ By focusing better on his surroundings, Jon saw that he was on an island, surrounded by water as black as night. In the distance to the north he could see another islands and the mainland. _'Seven hells! Where the hell am I?'_ Jon in his five a ten name days had never left the north. If he really thought about it, his father had never taken him too far from the Winterfell and he was never allowed to go beyond the _Wolfwood_. It was impossible to pinpoint where he was.

Descending joyfully and nonchalantly from the top, what he could only describe as a _Goddess_ appeared in the distance.

' _Is this the maiden that the southern gods talk about so much?' O_ n taking a closer look, Jon saw that it was impossible that she was _the Maiden_.' _Not a goddess can be so beautiful'._

 _'And if what I'm seeing is a Goddess, it is certainly a Valyrian goddess.'_ The aforementioned in question, was taller than Sansa and perhaps her age or a little bit older, with hair silver like the moon and eyes like two shining amethysts in black wells. Her body was beginning to show the shapes of a woman, an athletic and slender body.

' _Eyes like mine, but much more streaked in purple'._ Jon thought. Suddenly he couldn't help but feel a release of tension and be glad to think that maybe he was looking at his mother in the afterlife, when she was a young woman. If so, he understood how his father had dishonored Catelyn Tully.

_'Being this beautiful with less days of her name than me, when Eddard Stark met her during the Rebellion she must have been the most beautiful woman in history'_

Suddenly the spell Jon had fallen into with his thoughts was broken. His body, or what he believed to be his body began to move on its own. And not only that, he began to feel how his thoughts were shared and heard by the owner of the body in which he was imprisoned.

 _'What witchcraft is this ?! Is this the punishment of the gods for those who take their own lives? Or is it just a graceless joke to haunt me for the rest of eternity wherever I am?'_ All Jon wanted right now was to be able to feel physically ill and vomit, but his body, or what he had believed to be his body until then, was perfectly fine and kept walking in the direction of the silver-haired girl.

When he got close to her, he could finally appreciate her in all her splendor, confirming why from afar she was mistaken for a goddess. Before his eyes ' _or should I say, before the eyes of whoever I am in?'_ it was the most perfect woman he had ever seen in his life. The ' _Girl? Goddess?'_ wore a scarlet red dress with black traces on the sides of her trunk, which made the effect of scales. The combination of colors enhanced the paleness of her porcelain-like skin, without an imperfection, without an impurity. The trance in which he found himself disappeared immediately when he heard the stranger speak to him, while she looked at him with love and sweetness.

“Egg !! _Tubī iksis aōha tōma ampā Brōzio Tubis[](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18949606/chapters/45204880#_ftn1) _[[1] ](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45204880?view_adult=true#_ftn1)_Māzigon va lēkia, aōha irudy aōha irudy tubī iksis bona ao umbagon lēda Balerion[ **[2]**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45204880?view_adult=true#_ftn2)!" _The stranger girl spoke _in a_ warm voice and with great familiarity.

' _Egg? Who the hells is Egg? Is she talking to me?'_ Jon mused, as he tried to shape the only thing he thinks he understands that this mysterious girl has said. _'Balerion? The only Balerion I know of is the Black Dread, the Conqueror's dragon… and of course the girl fits the description of a descendant of The Old Valyria… but the conquest of Aegon and his sisters was 297 years ago !! What the hell am I in? What's going on?_ '

However, before he could find any answers and while Jon could only drown in his thoughts, the body and mind in which he found himself seemed to understand everything perfectly. Acting without having any control over the actions of his body or mind, he closed the distance between himself and the beautiful silver-haired woman in a couple of strides until he was even with her. Moment in which, Jon or the body in which his soul and consciousness was found, grabbed her by the waist to attract her towards him and, looking into her eyes, tell her in a language that he had never spoken, distilling some annoyance but warmly.

" _Rhaenys, ao gīmigon skorkydoso bōsa nyke ve issare waiting syt bisa tubis, iksan daor hae ao, gaoman daor mirre jaelagon naejot sagon sōvegon mirre jēda_[[3]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45204880?view_adult=true#_ftn3)"

Without Jon being able of process anything that what was happening, the beautiful girl gave him a mischievous look and launched into a passionate kiss, to what ' _Myself?_ ' answered more than delighted.

Jon couldn't be more confused. His first kiss in his life had intoxicated him even more than all the unlikely situation he was in. The kiss felt like all the love he'd never had or knew he needed. It was something magical, pure and real all at the same time. That kiss felt like the home he had never had. Never in his life had anything Jon ever done felt more correct than that kiss. Despite all the good that the kiss had caused him, he had never imagined kissing a woman, much less that his first kiss was with such a goddess and that he could only be a spectator, although feeling as if he were the one who really kissed her. He tried to return to his thoughts, or how little he was able to process at that moment, trying to remember the only thing he had been able to understand from the strange language in which he had addressed the stranger who, after the kiss, had been made owner of his senses and his soul even if it were in the other life.

' _I called the unknown girl_ _Rhaenys? Like in Rhaenys Targaryen?'_ Jon wondered to himself.

' _Yes'_ replied suddenly and dryly, although with some affection an internal voice.

 _'Mine? That of the person within whom i am? That of the gods of this strange world I am in after my death?_... _Who are you? '_ Jon asked the voice with doubt in his tone.

He did not expect an answer. Or he didn't really want to have it, scared of who it might be.

 _'I am the son of Lord Aerion Targaryen and Lady Valaena Velaryon. The heir to Dragonstone and the last scion of Valyria. Who are you? I know how you got here, your last memories are also mine...'_ replied the owner of the body in which his soul was found in a tone that was clearly sympathetic and with sorrow.

 _'Jon, Jon Snow. Son of Lord Eddard Stark' he_ replied, feeling as if he were an ant addressing the huge black dragon that was beginning to emerge on the horizon of the sky.

 _'Has the future changed so much that men will be able to have children without the need for a woman?'_ The _Conqueror_ said with a certain bitter aftertaste.

 _'Impossible, this can't be happening'_ Jon thought, just at the moment, he experienced as if his life passed before his eyes, but interspersed with all the memories and experiences of the life of the person he was in.

Thus he now could understand that the language that he was unable to understand just was High Valyrian, and that his mind and soul had somehow been transported to the body of the _Fucking_ _Conqueror_ on the day of his fifth and tenth day of the name, about to be bonded by first time with Balerion, the _Winged Shadow_.

' _If Aegon Targaryen is on his fifth and tenth day of the name, and my memory of studying the Conquest with Maester Luwin is correct, it means that I am in the body of the Conqueror 295 years before I was born. This is not possible! This is fucking madness !! I should be dead. I, without being able to control it I have driven into my heart the dagger that I found in my aunt Lyanna's grave, I should be in the Seven Hells, or in the afterlife, not being an exceptional spectator in the life of Aegon the Dragon without having any control over the acts that happen around me_ ... _What a practical joke of the gods is this? Is this the punishment for ending my life by my own hand? I didn't want to, really didn't want ..._ 'Jon lamented bitterly, as he tried to adjust to his incredible new reality.

 _'Stop thinking so much, you're giving me a headache. I suppose it must be like being leaning out of a window watching life go by, but you contemplate it through the eyes of a person peeking out and feeling from inside '_ interrupted, who was undoubtedly Aegon Targaryen. ' _Don't worry, even if I can't understand how you feel, I'm not going to judge you by the circumstances of your birth or death. No newborn should be judged on the actions of his parents or his rank on the social scale. It's our actions that define us, Jon. And as I see it, in your death there was something beyond your hand' The Dragon_ pronounced with an affection that could almost be considered brotherly, conveying a certain concern at the last thing he said.

After establishing the connection or whatever the gods wanted him to have with Aegon, Jon tried not to turn around how and why he had gotten there, feeling grateful that at least this time he knew that he would live a better life, without being him, really responsible for anything that happened in it. The absence of being judged as his father's shame was exhilaratingly liberating, he had to add.

He reached a kind of internal peace in that moment, by deciding that dead or in limbo, he was living, through some magical way, in the life of a person from the past. What he did not quite understand was why he was reliving the life of a Targaryen, especially _THAT Targaryen_ , instead of an old _Winter King_ whose name was _Stark_. No matter how many turns he gave it, he could not find a possible explanation for his situation, but deep down in his soul, or what was left of it, he felt that there was a reason for being there. He was in Dragonstone, within the soul of Aegon Targaryen. It took him getting used to it, but since he couldn't do otherwise, he resigned himself to being an exceptional witness in the life of the _Conqueror_ .

_He, in a way, was the Dragon._

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45204880?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) Today is your fifteenth birthday

[[2]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45204880?view_adult=true#_ftnref2) Come on brother, your gift today is that you bond with Balerion

[[3]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45204880?view_adult=true#_ftnref3) You know how long I've been waiting for this day. Besides, I'm not like you, I don't want to be flying all the time 


	5. Jon IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon in the life of the Dragon  
> +  
> R + L = J

**_The Life of the Dragon_ 10 AC Over ** _**Blackwater Bay** _

* * *

It was the tenth year after the _Conquest._ The day that he and Aegon Targaryen fulfilled seven and thirty days of the name. And the _Conqueror_ was heading to _Dragonstone,_ because his older sister and wife, Visenya, had summoned him for something regarding a prophecy and a ritual that she claimed would help the family in the future. Although the _Dragon_ generally politely declined his _Mandia's offers_ related to magic and prophecies, this time Aegon decided to accept. He left the court and works of the _Aegonsfort_ behind, to go to Dragonstone and participate in the Visenya's ritual. If Jon had learned something living in the soul of the conqueror, it was that he only left what he had in hand if an even more urgent matter arose. ' _And Aegon had only one matter of top priority, Rhaenys' dream'_ The driving force behind House Targaryen actions in the last twelve years Jon thought.

Perched on top of Balerion, Jon could watch as the fledgling city that began to develop at the foot of the _Aegonsfort_ , became a smaller and smaller dot in the distance.

' _Kings Landing'_ the thought sprang into Jon's mind.

 _'The height of originality I would say. It is a pity that its appointment did not fall to me. I would have given it a much more glorious name and with more charisma…'_ Mentally replied the _Dragon_ , with a tone of disapproval and disappointment.

 _'Yes, coming from the author of The Hill of Aegon and the Aegonsfort… you could have come up with something like the City of Aegon, or New Valyria of the West'_ Jon replied humorously. The deep sigh of the conqueror made him understand that he had touched his pride, so he preferred not to delve into the wound, turning his thoughts back to the day after his death, this madness of ' _punishment from the gods, hell, another life, began? …?'  
_

He couldn't tell, and neither could Aegon. Twenty-two years since his body without his control had driven a Valyrian steel dagger into Jon's chest in the crypts of _Winterfell_. Twenty-two years with his soul and consciousness _living?_ inside the _Conqueror_. He in a way, was Aegon Targaryen and he was living the life of the _Dragon_ .

But at the same time, Jon couldn't really control anything that happened, or intervene in Aegon's thoughts or actions. However, many times he felt as if he were the one who found himself thinking or doing it. Aegon, for his part, accepted it as if it were something ordinary and within the routine and it never occurred to him to ask himself why the unlikely situation. Although on the other hand, it never occurred to the _Dragon_ to talk about it with anyone and he only asked Jon not to know anything about the ' _future, the present or the past?'_ He would not know how to answer that question even if his life, if he had it, depended on it.

 _'Knowing that I will be remembered as the Conqueror has already influenced a lot in my future, I do not need to know more'_ And thus the _Dragon_ settled the _Conqueror_ affair from day one and Jon tried not to think, remember or mention anything about the future of house Targaryen , of Aegon or his sisters, or nothing in his life, beyond the good memories with his family. He did not always succeed and when he accidentally slipped a thought or memory about something related to the future _'or was it the past?'_ It seemed as if the communication was cut off and Jon stopped feeling or thinking what Aegon was, staying isolated in wherever the hell he was. Contemplating the life of the _Conqueror_ from within, feeling nothing but the terrible sensation of falling into an absolute void that never ceased. Those days were the worst in his new life.

If he thought his situation in _Winterfell_ was bad, not feeling anything, not being able to do, not being able to express himself and only being able to observe the life that passed before him, showed him that there were far worse things. This made him often think that this was a punishment from the _gods_. Or so Jon wanted to think to try to find an explanation for his bizarre situation. 

However, thanks to Aegon's character, in the end he ended up opening up to Jon, sharing his thoughts and feelings. Jon was often amazed at the similarities in personality he had to the _Last of Valyria,_ how Aegon liked to call himself.

The first thing he had to get acquainted with in Aegon's life was the, at first gloomy, castle-fortress of _Dragonstone._ When he first saw it, the army of grotesque stone gargoyles had disturbed him so much that he tried with all his might to try to prevent Aegon from entering the black castle. In this, he was soon struck by the absence of the famous painted table with all of _Westeros_ carved on it.

As time passed, Jon got used to the gargoyles and the black castle, feeling practically the same as when he lived in _Winterfell,_ at home _._ _'Or is it Aegon who sits at home and that's why I feel that way too?'_ Jon mused, trying to make sense of his feelings.

Another thing that Jon quickly grew used to, was Aegon's special bond with his dragon, _Balerion_. It was more impressive than any description he had read when he was a child with Maester Luwin. They didn't do it justice. He was a being from a legendary dream, capable of razing entire cities if disturbed. An incredible animal that did not answer to men or gods, fire made flesh, the _Black Dread._ The scales, horns and wings black as night, made him a shadow that crossed the skies, where only his spinal crest and his eyes stood out from his darkness, with a red color like that of an incandescent forge. Eyes that when they landed on something, denoted an intelligence greater than that of many human beings, which was not difficult to believe after interacting with him almost daily. His fire was a deep red, almost black, that could melt any metal and raise the temperature of the sand on _Dragonstone_ Beach until it becomes a glassy surface. It had jaws with teeth the size of a greatsword, with which it could engulf a carriage. It was about 120 meters wide from the tip of one wing to the other. And about 65 meters long from its head to the end of its tail when it was fully extended flying through the air.

The relationship between Aegon and the dragon was one of symbiosis between them. Based on mutual respect and affection, always respecting Balerion's freedom and will.

 _'One of the things that I will never tire of experiencing in this afterlife is the adrenaline rush of being on the Black Dread'_ Jon rejoiced to himself.

 _'Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor'_ the conqueror used to say when referring to his relationship with Balerion. That the dragon allowed a saddle to be worn on its body was a silent testimony to the mutual agreement between the _Dragonrider_ and the dragon to which it was bound, more than anything else. Allowing the dragon to put those chains on him was a way of showing that they were willing to give everything for the one they had chosen to bond with. And these ties were for life. Of the person.

The dragons of Aegon's sisters were equally impressive, Visenya's _Vhagar_ was small compared to Balerion, but still capable of swallowing a horse down its throat. His scales, horns, wings, wing bones, and spinal crest, were a mixture of dark orange and spent yellowish. Its flame was dull orange and could melt the armor of any knight in the world. Rhaenys' _Meraxes_ , was larger than _Vhagar_ but smaller than _Balerion_. The _Conqueror's_ _little sister's_ _dragon_ could swallow two horses whole, having purple eyes and silver scales, with a bright flame that was almost white.

However, what took Jon the longest to accept was the _Dragon's_ relationship with his sisters. And it was something Jon had to adjust to quickly. The wedding with Visenya and the subsequent bedding, happened within a few moons of inhabiting Aegon. And moons later, the same thing happened with Rhaenys. At first Jon felt some revulsion at the kind of relationship had between the three Targaryens, but knowing it from the inside changed his mind.

With Visenya, Aegon married out of the family duty of preserving pure blood and because Visenya really was a better family head than Aegon himself. But he married Rhaenys out of love, in exchange for certain concessions and deference to Visenya in the day-to-day management of the castle and the island of _Dragonstone_. The relationship between the eldest and her _valonqar_ was one of affection, trust and respect, not without passion at times, but a relationship above all based on _Duty_ . The _Duty_ for the blood of the _Forty_ and the Targaryen family.

 _Senya,_ as Aegon and Rhaenys referred to her, was the _Mandia_ of the family. Something for which she always felt an obligation to protect the _dynasty_ first and foremost. At times Jon saw in the conqueror's older sister everything he hated so much about Lady Tully-Stark. But being on the other side of that overprotection and family ambition was not as unpleasant, as when he was the target of its anger.

' _It took poor Aegon five years to speak to Orys because Senya considered him a danger to his house first, then to Rhaenys and finally called him a profiteer upstart. And not even with the passing of the years Visenya's little-veiled distrust ceased.'_ It _was_ also thanks to the _Conqueror's_ older sister that Jon was finally able to understand, at least partially, the fear that his figure could engender in Catelyn Tully. Every descendant of Valyrian blood in Dragonstone was regarded by Visenya as an insect to be eliminated or as a potential threat that could steal or kill their dragons, or the castle. Or the threat Visenya saw that day, in a concern that often bordered on paranoia.

' _Weeds we have to cut, Egg'_ Visenya once answered Aegon, when he complained to his sister about the disappearance of some boys and girls whose parents could trace their ancestry back to the times of Aenar the _Exile_ and Gaemon the _Glorious_. One of the conditions that Visenya compromised in the marriage between him and Rhaenys was for these reasons. Although she possessed the silver-gold hair and purple eyes of Valyria, hers was a harsh and austere beauty. In Jon's opinion, although it was possible to love her and empathize with her because of her overprotectiveness with family, it was impossible to be in love with her. Visenya was all duty, stern, cold, serious, and relentless; not to mention that both Aegon and Jon were convinced that she was some kind of reincarnation of a sorceress from _Old_ _Valyria_.

 _'It is not old if his remains are still hot'_ muttered ironically thinking about _Old Valyria_ to mock Aegon, who used to appreciate the dark sense of humor that Jon took certain things.

Visenya, although not as beautiful as Rhaenys, was a full-fledged Valyrian beauty. A little taller than Rhaenys, where she was slender, Visenya was voluptuous, being an impressive and unique woman in her own right without depending on her beauty. Although present, this was a less ethereal beauty, more rigid than Rhaenys.

Visenya was as good with a sword as Aegon himself, as comfortable in armor as wearing clothes. She always carried _Dark Sister in her_ waist _._ A Valyrian steel long sword with a hilt of dragon bone smaller than usual, designed for a woman's hand, finished in gold imitating the flame of a dragon and guard in gold with a red ruby on its crossguard smaller than that of a common long sword. The blade was of a dark smoky color, which according to the reflection of the light could give the impression of being the color of blood. And his sister-wife, was adept at using it, she and Aegon having trained together since they were able to pick up a stick.

Rhaenys for her part, his _haedar_ , was everything her older sister was not. Casual, playful, curious, impulsive and given to flights of fantasy. Without being a true warrior, Rhaenys played a fundamental role in the Westerosi _Conquest_. In turn, she was a lover of the arts and loved music, dance and poetry, financing many bards, traveling artists and puppeteers. However, Rhaenys spent more time on top of his dragon than he and his sister Visenya combined and above all, she loved the freedom of flying. The longing for the little sister of the _Conqueror_ was one day going into the unknown that had the West of the _Sunset Sea_ mounted in _Meraxes._

That day of his name, Jon and the _Conqueror_ had left the quiet little Aenys, under the care of the maids in the makeshift nursery near his quarters, in the rudimentary fort, turning to _Balerion_ to quickly cover the distance that separated him from the nestled island in _Blackwater Bay._ Rhaenys was not present to take care of the son between her and the _Dragon_ , because she was developing a retaliatory campaign with which she tried to subjugate Dorne, through the fire of _her dragon_.

Both Aegon and Jon preferred a thousand times the castle below the _Dragonmont_ , which was ten times the size of the _Aegonfort_ , with much more comfort, security and which felt like home. Once the _Dragon_ confessed that he even loved the scent of the island, where the salty air always smelled of smoke and sulfur. It is for this reason that since the _conquest_ , Aegon spent approximately half the year between his two seats, dividing his time between them. And with _Balerion it_ was a journey of a few hours.

 _'Only an unconscious does not look back to see the result that his past actions have had. The rest of the world will not stop seeing what you have done, therefore you must be sure that what you have done is justifiable '_ Aegon said many times, when he remembered all the actions that had led him to have the name by which it would be remembered for posterity.

As Aegon led _Balerion_ towards _Dragonstone_ , Jon couldn't help but think that today was the twenty-second day of the name since the night that he unwittingly thrust a Valyrian steel dagger into his chest in the crypts of Winterfell and woke up in the slope of the _Dragonmont._ From that day on and for the days following his name day, Jon continued to dwell in a corner of the _Conqueror's_ soul .

The _Dragon_ was physically a little taller and broader in the shoulders than Jon, having during his youth the same shoulder-length hair as he, but silver as the gleam of the moon. Similarly, they both possessed similar facial features, but Aegon's face was less elongated than Jon's when he was alive. His eyes were black as two wells of ink, crossed by raging purple streaks that stood out in the darkness of their irises. Color that was more pronounced in situations of stress or anger. Most of the time he chose to wear a black shirt, over which he wore a black doublet with scarlet veins in the center that reached the neck of the same, in imitation of the scales of a dragon. It used to accompany it with black leather ride-leggings or baggy pants and high black leather boots. Aside from the red streaks on the doublets and some scarlet accents on the chest or sides, the only thing that always stood out, was the blood-red embroidered three-headed dragon in the center of their black capes.

The only fanfare that he allowed himself to wear was when he wore his breastplate and back armor over chain mail, all made of Valyrian steel. The first was the same color as _Blackfyre's_ blade and was engraved with the sigil of House Targaryen, possessing an amethyst, a ruby, and a sapphire as the eyes of the rampant tricephalous dragon. Beneath the armor and chainmail, he wore a sobrevest of treated black leather, like the tight ride-leggings, which resembled the scales of a dragon. Only the red flashes on the neck stood out. He used to wear greaves, knee pads, and gauntlets of castle-forged steel, but as light as possible. For the same reasons, he preferred to avoid wearing the helmet, or other protection above the neck. And sometimes he even refused to use the gorget, in order to free himself of weight to be faster in his movements. His sword was the legendary _Blackfyre._ A bastard sword whose blade was made of smoky-colored Valyrian steel, which depending on the incidence of the light seemed to glow or be absolutely black, making it even more impressive than his father's sword, _ICE._ The hilt was made of black dragon bone, with a huge blood-red diamond-shaped ruby topping it off, with the valyrian steel guard made up of two dragon heads. And if Jon thought he knew how to use a sword before he died, by the gods he would swear that thought was totally unfounded, seeing Aegon's mastery from a vantage point.

Though he was infinitely more self-assured than he, Aegon was lonely and brooding by nature like Jon, preferring to stroll along the cliffs of Dragonstone, than mingle with people. Despite not being a _bastard_ like him and being the rightful heir to his house name, Aegon was nothing like Robb or Theon. If he wanted he could be more charming than Robb when the lords of the north visited _Winterfell._ But he only was if he got some benefit from it, since he usually preferred to be direct, dry and cutting, with a special sense of humor that often oscillated between fine irony and black cynicism. Nor was Aegon anything like any great lord Jon had ever known, though in a way his sense of duty reminded him of his father's. The men under his command, despite the fact that he was tough and strict, respected him for his ability to command and sacrifice, to carry out any action that he ordered them to do. His generosity towards those loyal to him, together with his close and respectful treatment with them, caused them to venerate him as a _God_ , kissing wherever he stepped. To the great discomfort and shame of the _Dragon,_ that never felt comfortable being the focus of stares and whispers

Aegon preferred to be in the shadows, relating almost exclusively to his sisters, who, especially Visenya, were responsible for the daily decisions in the Targaryen house. He was only directly involved in government affairs when the situation required it. And whenever he did, Aegon did not leave anyone indifferent with his decisions or actions, which arose based on a rational thought process, avoiding falling into impulsiveness or emotions of the moment. And when he did finally act, he did so in ways and ways Jon couldn't have agreed more with.

He had no vices, beyond a small obsession with improving his skill with the sword, that often served as an outlet for his tensions. Until bedding with Visenya, he remained a virgin, avoiding visiting the brothels that from time to time the only friend Jon knew of Aegon visited. This was Orys Baratheon, the son of Aerion Targaryen and a fishmonger from the town of _Dragonstone._ A _Bastard,_ like Jon _._

_'And he is a friend of mine because he is family, he has been with me all his life, he has never judged me and he has not failed me, but I would doubt that I could have friends. It is not easy to deal with a Dragon, Jon '_ Aegon answered him every time he asked him why he was always seeking solitude. And Jon could only agree with him. It was not easy to deal with the _Dragon_ , because not even he being inside, was able to fully understand him.

The _Conqueror_ was a very complex character, with many layers and people rarely saw his true interior. Something that only Jon from the inside and his sisters from the outside, were able to see sometimes.

His wishes, dreams and fears. And above all, the feeling that _destiny_ rested on his shoulders. The conversations in his mind served to better understand Aegon _, who_ was practically obsessed with restoring the glory of _Valyria_ and bringing peace to _Essos_. Something that justified before Jon, adducing that _it was their destiny_ , since he was the _Last_ _Scion Of Valyria_. Aegon had to be the one to rebuild the _Freehold of Valyria_ , uniting _Essos_ again under the aegis of order. The indiscriminate violence that were taking place due to the power vacuum caused after _the Doom of Valyria_ , had turned the eastern side of _the Narrow Sea_ into utter chaos that stretched for almost a hundred years now. For which in a way, even though Jon was unable to understand why, Aegon felt directly responsible.

Through the eyes of the _Dragon he_ saw and in a certain way experienced, to what extent the commitment of this reached for said Valyrian reestablishment in the wars of Aegon in Essos. During the _Essosi_ campaigns _,_ both Jon and Aegon learned that war was nothing like songs and stories. Smells and sounds were capable of numbing the senses, especially when Aegon turned to the _Black Dread_ if the situation demanded it. Jon saw from within the _Conqueror's,_ the battles between the _Three Whores_ against _Volantis_ and in the _Disputed_ _Lands_. He saw Aegon's mastery of the sword and with what sinister art he was capable of taking on anyone with _Blackfyre_ , who pierced through armor, bone, sinew and flesh, like a hot knife on butter.

However, being a direct witness to his thought processes and how they shaped his way of thinking and actions, Jon could understand that Aegon lived for and by a vision of the world, to the point that he himself ended up internalizing it to himself.

_'Do what you want, but be prepared in that case to be ruled instead of ruled by others if your enterprise fails'_

_'Soft kingdoms breed soft men and good lands. Because it is not possible for the same land to bear wonderful fruits as men who are good at war.'_

_'Be self-sufficient. Never put yourself in a situation of dependency in front of anyone. Thus, you will always have your hand on your allies, and they will be the ones who depend on you. Give everything they need to your allies and their people will follow you to the ends of the earth, being yours and not your allies. '_

_'Be generous. Success should always require showing the utmost kindness and fairness. Only people lost in the dark treat it as an occasion for greater greed. Collecting the treasures of an enemy is not an end in itself, but only a means to build. Wealth is of little use, except as a means of winning friends of dubious loyalty._ Friends, as the _Dragon_ demonstrated with his actions, thought that could only exist in political terms, since Aegon would never trust someone who was not his family, or who had shown with their actions that could be consider theirselves as such.

 _'Be brief. Being direct and brief is the lifeblood of leadership. Talking too much suggests desperation on the part of the leader. Speak briefly, decisively and precisely, and express what you mean in such a natural logic that no one can raise objections. Then be the engine of what you order.'_ If something characterized the Targaryen, it was that he would not ask anyone under his command for anything that he was not capable of doing. No matter how big or small the task or problem, Aegon was always the first to try to help or lead by example.

 _'In my experience, men who respond to good fortune with modesty and kindness are more difficult to find than those who face adversity with courage,'_ Aegon always warned when judging people.

 _'Whenever you can, act as a liberator. Freedom, dignity, wealth: these three together constitute the greatest happiness of humanity. If you are able to bestow all three on those who follow you, their love for you will never die.'_ However, Aegon did not hesitate to be hard and ruthless if the situation called for it.

_'You should always be in control of the situation, you can and should accept advice, but do not let yourself be moved by other opinions when you have made a final decision. Do not let your final opinion be put in the spotlight in public, without this entailing its punishment. When you punish traitors and disloyal people, be tough and inflexible. There will be times when you can be magnanimous, but if this is the norm, people will not respect you and chaos will ensue. In the long run, the truth is that discipline always brings rewards.  
_

_'By your blood you are privileged compared to the rest of the world, never forget who you are. The others will not. Wear it as your armor. Do not be a person who mistreats the common people or be rude with them. There is no kindness between man and man more natural than sharing food and drink.'_

_'I wish all the nobles of Westeros were like him'_ Jon thought bitterly when Aegon brought up the subject of his social status. Jon was a _Bastard_ , and sometimes he wanted to tell him that he didn't need to know these things, but Aegon always answered him in the same way,

_'No matter how badly they treat you, you must be courteous and kind to everyone. From the lowest of the fishermen, to the greatest of the lords, you must treat them with the same respect that you want for yourself. Although it may seem hard to believe, there is a deep, and often frustrated, desire in everyone's heart to act kindly rather than selfishly, and a good example of generosity can inspire dozens more. And it can even lead to greatness. And sometimes, the greatest of greatness can be hidden in the shadows, never underestimate anyone and judge only through the actions you see '_

And by those rules Aegon's life was governed, and therefore Jon's life, who soon adopted as his own the thought of the incredible person in which he was.

' _What other remedy do I have anyway?'_ Jon mused sadly.

 _'If I have to live in the body of someone whose life I really can't intervene in, at least I'm in the body of someone I would have liked to look like even in dreams'_ thought of Jon that filled Aegon with pride and gratitude.

Along with living inside the _Dragon_ and everything that surrounded him, Jon had to get used to being an exceptional witness to the daily and everyday life of Aegon, who removed the tireless training in the _Dragonstone courtyard_ , was on the antipodes of his normal life until he died and reached the body of the _Conqueror_.

That's why when he looked back, many times Jon returned to the moment when Aegon Targaryen decided to conquer the _Seven Kingdoms._

* * *

_**Year 2 BC Dragonstone, Blackwater Bay** _

__

* * *

When he and _Senya_ returned from the wars in Essos, Aegon turned his eyes completely to the east and began to sketch in his mind how he could claim the former _Freehold_ without resorting to slavery that repulsed the both of them, or magic to Aegon, sadly, lost. His interest in the ever-disputed _Kingdoms_ of _Westeros_ was close to nil, save for a couple of visits to the _Citadel_ to obtain books of magic and legend for Visenya, history for him, and paintings for Rhaenys in _Oldtown_ A visit to the _Arbor_ to practice falconry invited by Lord Redwyne, and then headed by the _Mander and_ the S _unseat Sea_ by boat with Rhaenys, his two dragons, to _Lannisport_ where the Lannisters gave them a cold reception. That, and the occasional Friendly House visits from the mouth of the Blackwater, was all Aegon Targaryen's interest in the west from the day of his fifth and tenth name day onwards.

Until a cold spring night in Dragonstone, changed the _Dragon's_ priorities.

In the middle of the night, Rhaenys woke up and came screaming and feverish out of her husband's arms. The color had left her and she was shivering and drenched in cold sweat, huddled in a corner of the room that served as their bedroom. She was crying in a heartbroken way. _Meraxes_ roared in the distance and Rhaenys's gaze was one of utter panic. She was so scared that neither Aegon first, nor then Visenya who had come after the screams, knew how to calm her down. Seldom had Jon felt so helpless inside Aegon's body as he did in that moment. Despite not being the one who acted or spoke, he was able to empathize with Aegon and his feelings, developing great affection and a deep infatuation for the little Targaryen, and it hurt him not being able to do anything for her, his soul was compressed for the anguish.

"Ice creatures, with sky blue eyes, staring at me as a snowstorm engulfed me ..." Rhaenys began to speak in a low, trembling, almost lifeless tone.

"What are you talking about Rhaenys?" Visenya asked, crouching down until she was in her sister's line of sight, looking somewhat concerned, although it was sometimes difficult to distinguish between when she was upset or worried. At times it seemed that Aegon's older sister had her face sculpted in white marble, unable to offer any external display save for the warmth transmitted by her completely purple eyes and small gestures with her brows, almost imperceptible to those who did not know her.

"The dream ... it was real ... I could feel the cold ... the cold wind that pierced my skin like blades", the little sister of the _Dragon_ continued between sobs, but regaining a certain calm and tranquility in her tone.

“Between me and the ice monsters there was only a hidden dragon between the shadows and the snow… he tried to save me, but in the end, the pale and ethereal ice monsters pierced his chest with theirs translucent sword. Then one of the beings looked at me and let out a moan that sounded like laughter and percussed in my ears… and… then it killed me… ”Rhaenys cried uncontrollably again, again curling up against the corner of the wall and the floor. Scared even of the shadows.

Aegon leaned down to hug Rhaenys's shrunken body, while Visenya now had a genuinely worried face, and Jon couldn't help but think that what Rhaenys had dreamed of was _The Long Night_ , the story the _Old Nan_ told them to scare them as childs. And apparently Jon wasn't the only one who thought about it. Before Aegon or Jon could realize it, Visenya shoved him aside and grabbed Rhaenys by the chin, staring at her but with a certain sweetness rarely seen in the older Targaryen.

“ _Are_ you saying that you have dreamed of the legend of the _Darkness brought by the Others and the story of Azor Ahai in Essos?_ What else did you see, _what_ do you remember, any geographical reference? Something to indicate when or how _? "_ Visenya asked with some warmth, but in a voice that carried more and more alarm. Her gaze began to oscillate between Rhaenys and him, to see if he understood what was happening. Aegon between what he knew of _Essos_ and the story of _Old Nan_ that Jon had told him long time ago, had put the pieces together and imagined what _Senya_ was referring to, so he nodded, reassuring Rhaenys with a warm and sweet look, to whatever her reply was.

“I think so… I only saw snow and monsters, and a wall. A huge wall of ice” said Rhaenys as she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. Visenya quickly rose from the crouching position and suddenly left Aegon's stances.

The _Dragon_ sat on the ground next to his sister, leaning his back against the wall, to which Rhaenys responded by dropping into his lap where she fell asleep again while Aegon stroked her hair. When Visenya returned, it must have been the hour of the nightingale for it was dawning, and Aegon's whole body ached from falling asleep against the wall with his sister-wife on his lap. And Jon could feel the muscle ache from the bad position, as if it had been his body that had done it. As he stretched, trying not to wake the love of his life, his older sister appeared just as suddenly as she had left at the _Hour of the eel._

“Aegon, with the books _we borrowed_ from the _Citadel_ , the _Valyria_ _chronicles_ we have, and some books from Asshai and Yi-TI, I can assure you that our sister has given us an exact picture of all the descriptions mentioned about the legend... I don't know if it will be in our time, but we have to be prepared. We need to be prepared. Daenys _the dreamer_ dreamed of the _Doom_ and thanks to her we are alive. I know what i would do _Valonqar[1],_ but you are the head of the family. You're going to have to give up your dream of _Valyria_ ... The War Against _Darkness_ It will be here in the West. And dragons are fire, light. They must be there to defeat it” Said a Visenya who seemed to have not slept at all all night, with small bags under her eyes and her hair completely disheveled. She was still in her nightgown with which she had entered Aegon's rooms, after Rhaenys screams in her nightmare.

"And what do you propose to me? That i kindly ask the _Seven_ _Kings_ and thousands of _Lords from Westeros_ to join me in a crusade against an enemy that, if it existed, did so last more than 8000 years ago? _You_ know better than anyone that our _duty_ and _destiny_ as the _lasts of Valyria_ is to preserve the pure blood, take care of the dragons and reclaim the _Freehold_. _Not only for_ _the_ _dream_ of Daenys we came, and so you _know_ "Aegon said with great sarcasm, reproachfully and raising his voice over the account, since a yawning Rhaenys was waking from its slumber in the lap of the _Dragon._

“Do you still believe the lies the _Old_ _Volantine Blood_ told you ? That did we escape because they wanted to kill us? That did we escape from _Valyria_ just two years before the _Doom_ because Aenar the _Exile and_ Gaemon _the Glorious_ simply _chose_ to _flee_ rather than stand up to their enemies? Is that what you think of _our_ family? What are we _cowards_ who run _away_ when the situation gets ugly? " each word in a higher tone than the last, until she almost finished screaming. Visenya's reply was dripping with acidity and hatred for the way she claimed some people wanted to misrepresent the true motivations of the Targaryen exile. Aegon never had a definite idea on the subject. His rational part told him that a political dispute was more likely than a prophetic dream, but ... he rode a Dragon that was capable of covering entire cities with his shadow. Jon for his part, was living what he was living, or not. Because he couldn't tell if he was alive or not, so he wouldn't be surprised by either Daenys's prophetic dream, or the possible political causes in the Targaryen exile, let alone a new _Long Night_ .

 _'Maybe it was both things that drove your family into exile and both your sister and you are right? Living what we are both experiencing, magic cannot be ruled out, nor that Rhaenys could have had a prophetic dream like Daenys's ...'_ Jon tried to contribute with his opinion to the issue, because after all he had also been fighting _Volantis_ in the _Free Cities_ and had heard the same rumors that were running about the _true reason_ for House Targaryen's _exile_ . All of them propagated in their day, according to the _Old Blood_ of _Volantis_ , by Aurion. And brought out again when Aegon carried out his campaigns against _the first daughter_ of _Valyria._ Apparently when the great lord of _Valyria_ planned to march on the smoking remains of Valyria, he came into contact with Aegon's ancestor, Gaemon the _Glorious_. At the meeting held by the last _Dragonlords_ of that time, Gaemon Targaryen politely declined the invitation to participate in Aurion's expedition, which the later took as a personal confrontation and against _Valyrian_ blood, cursing the Targaryens and promising to _make rain fire_ upon Gaemon and all his offspring when the Valyrian reestablishment was complete _._

 _'Thank you Jon, now I know what I have to do to protect ourselves,'_ Aegon told him internally, although after ten years Joon still continued to baffle him that Aegon included him as part of house Targaryen.

Rhaenys began to stretch and fully awake, rising from her position on her brother's lap, begun to pace restlessly from one side of the lot to the other. Still seated, but with his body tense, the _Conqueror_ looked questioningly at his older sister.

"What do you suggest we do, _Mandia[ **[2]**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftn2)_ ?" he ordered, rather than asked Aegon of his voluptuous and sensual sister. The absence of sleep had not taken away one iota of her beauty enhanced by the semitransparent nightgown, although perhaps it had increased the severity of her face.

“May we teach these _Kings_ and _Lords_ of _Westeros_ the meaning of the blood and fire of Valyria, uniting them under the Targaryen _Dragon_. Between the three of us with our dragons we could raze the entire continent without the need for armies. Before you get there they will be on their knees hailing you as their king” Visenya said convincingly, as if it were a mundane task to undertake.

"What do you think _hāedar[ **[3]**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftn3) ?"_ Aegon asked, directing his gaze to his little sister, even knowing that Rhaenys would always support him in everything he proposed, except practicing with the sword ' _T_ _hat's Senya's thing',_ she replied to Aegon every time he tried to coax her into learning . But in this case it was she who had had the dream, she was the best of the three, or four if Jon included himself, that knew what the possible threat was.

 _'What Aegon would have given to have a sister like Arya'_ regretting it as he thought about it, for comparing the relationship that the _Dragon_ and his little sister had, with that of Jon and his. He loved Arya, but he didn't think he could ever love her on the same plane that he loved Rhaenys. Although of course, this was neither family nor really knew of Jon's existence, but even so, Jon loved her with all that was left of his soul and conscience. Rhaenys represented the extraordinary beauty of _Valyria_ and the _Dragonlords_ , and was the love and light of the _Conqueror's_ life _._ No one understood him like she did, and no one like her could make him smile and pull him out of his melancholy and typically reserved character.

“I am convinced that it was not just a dream. You cannot dream of something you have no idea about. I have lots of imagination, but I don't see myself capable of dreaming about something so terrible, nor that that dream feels so real. I'm with Senya on this, the surest way to prevent my dream from happening, is to unify the continent under a single command and prepare it against the possible storm if it ever happens. And our descendants must know the motivations and why of the conquest, so that they never forget the true reason behind our actions. " Rhaenys replied biting her lower lip as she walked from one side of the stays to the other, her arms crossed and her eyes thoughtful.

' _Two votes in favor. Jon, your turn. Judge based on what I know, not what you know and be honest with your opinion '_ Aegon asked Jon internally, while he pondered what to answer to his expectant sisters.

' _Personally, if you had asked me 10 years ago ... I would have thought that the Long Night and the Others was a story to scare children who misbehaved ... after these ten years living, or whatever the gods want it to be, within You, I can't find out of the possibilities the coming of a new Long Night… And you've already heard Rhae… she can't imagine those feelings, it has to be a warning. Although I can do nothing, you have my full support and my humble advice. Besides, I'm sure it's going to be fine',_ Jon answered safely and almost as an oath to the person who was hosting him in some corner of his soul, while he tried to avoid any memory of his previous life relative to what he knew he was witnessing.

“If I count on your support and trust to carry out the plan that we devise between the three of us to make what we are talking about real right now, I accept. But always if it is something joint between the three. You can use my shadow to avoid being judged by the social and mental conventions of the _westerosi_ nobility, but when there are battles, which there will be, I want you on the battlefield, and that goes especially for you _Rhae"_ said Aegon getting up from the ground standing up to his full height, as he stared at his two sisters who were giving him their full attention.

“Aegon, I will always be there for our family. _You know it_ better than anyone” Visenya replied almost offended, showing with her bodily gestures the disgust she felt towards her little brother why he doubted her ability to enter battle. Aegon should know better than he, because even to Jon it was clear that Visenya would go to the very halls of Hell to ensure the protection of houseTargaryen. Now both Aegon and his older sister were looking at their younger sister, waiting for an answer from her. After a few seconds of hesitation, thinking about how to articulate what she wanted to say, Rhaenys began to speak in a resigned manner;

“Although you know of my revulsion towards violence, as I refuse to learn to fight or use a sword… I will be by your side in battles with _Meraxes,_ and with my charm and political ability I will win us over. Why if the three of us have to agree on something, it is that the diplomat of the family is me " She finished her little speech with a smile and playful tone, much to the annoyance of her sister and older brother, who frowned at her at the same time.

For his part, Jon couldn't agree more with the last thing Rhaenys had said, neither Aegon nor Visenya knew the meaning of political tact.

The next day, Aegon summoned the best carpenters gold could afford and ordered them to build a massive table for his solar that would represent the entire continent of _Westeros._ For almost two years, all the energies of the Targaryen trio were devoted entirely to planning how to unify _Westeros,_ waiting for the precise moment when the delicate balance in which the different kingdoms of _Westeros found themselves_ , would blow up.

And this moment came when _Harren the Black_ sought to extend his dominions beyond _the Riverlands._

No king in Westeros was more feared than Harren Hoare _the Black_ , whose cruelty had become legendary throughout the _Seven Kingdoms_. And no king in _Westeros_ felt more threatened by Harren than Argilac _the Arrogant, the_ King of Storms, the last of the Durrandons, an ancient warrior whose sole heir was his unmarried daughter. It was because of the threat from the _Ironborn_ that King Argilac approached the Targaryens of _Dragonstone_ , offering his daughter to Aegon in marriage, with all the lands east of _God's Eye_ from the _Trident_ to the _Blackwater Rush_ as a dowry. Without intending it, Arguilac gave the foot that Aegon and his sisters needed to put their plans into motion.

The _Dragon_ rejected the King of Storms' proposal, claiming that he already had two wives, and had no need for one more. Not to mention that the lands offered as dowries had been in the possession of the Hoare household for more than a generation. They were not from Argilac to give. Clearly, the ancient King of Storms intended to establish the Targaryens along the Blackwater as a buffer between his own lands and those of Harren _the Black,_ and Aegon was unwilling to enter a war for extraneous motives and in conditions unfavorable to its cause.

As a conflict with the continental kings began to loom on the horizon, Aegon responded with an offer of his own, providing him with a stable base from which to develop his further plans. He would take the dowry lands offered if Argilac also gave up _Massey's Hook_ and the woods and plains from Blackwater south to the River _Wendwater_ and the headwaters of the _Mander_. In addition, the pact would be sealed by the marriage of Argilac's daughter with Orys Baratheon, foreseeing that it would be rejected, giving the reasons to start a military campaign on the continent.

As Aegon had anticipated, Argilac the Arrogant rejected the terms angrily. Orys Baratheon was a _bastard_ , and the Storm King would not disgrace his daughter by shaking hands with a _bastard_. The very suggestion infuriated Argilac so much that he cut off Aegon's envoy's hands, returning them in a box with the following note.

"These are the only hands _your bastard_ will have on me" he wrote.

Aegon did not reply, expecting a rejection. Instead, he summoned his loyal followers, his bannermen, and his main allies to report to _Dragonstone_. It was not a great army, nor could they be individually compared to the great Westerosi nobility, but they were loyal, and in some cases, even family, to House Targaryen. The Velaryon of _Driftmark_ , whose lord was his uncle Daemon. Or like the Celtigars of _Claw Isle,_ were the first to respond to the call, which was not at all surprising considering the blood ties to both houses, also descendants of _Ancient Valyria_. From _Massey's Hook_ came Lord Bar Emmon of _Sharp Point_ and Lord Massey of _Stonedance_ , both sworn to the King of Storm's End, but with closer ties to the Targaryen family. Aegon, along with his sisters met with them to demand oaths of eternal loyalty, without even informing what was the true reason for the gathering of the faithful to the Targaryen house.

After this, the three Targaryens locked themselves in the castle's _Sept_ to do the _mummery_ of praying to the _Seven_ of _Westeros_ in search of guidance, although in reality it was seven days and six nights where Aegon and his two sisters dedicated themselves to enjoying life as if it was going to end the next day. The plan, obviously, was Rhaenys's idea. It was a way to win over the majority faith of _Westeros_ , as well as a way to unleash all the passions and emotions that they harbored between them. Once they left the _Sept_ Both Aegon, as well as Jon inside, were acutely aware of how fleeting life could be in wartime, and there was no better way to go to war than to remember why you fight it. For the family, for the home that Aegon made up with his two sisters.

On the seventh day, a cloud of crows erupted from the _Dragonstone_ aviary to carry Aegon's word to the _Seven Kingdoms_ of _Westeros_. To the _seven kings_ flew, to the _Oldtown_ Citadel, to the great and small lords. They all carried the same message written by Visenya:

“From this day forward there is only one king in Westeros. Those who bend the knee to Aegon of House Targaryen will retain their lands and titles. Those who take up arms against him would be brought down, humiliated, and destroyed.

_Signed,_

_Aegon of House Targaryen, First of His Name, the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Shield of his People, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, King of All Westeros and Protector of the Realm._ _"_

**10 Ac Dragonstone, Blackwater Bay**

When he returned his toughts to the present after immersing himself in the memories of his experiences within Aegon, Dragonstone began to loom on the horizon, amid the ever-present mist and smoke atop the _Dragonmont_. As they approached the castle, Aegon spotted _Vhagar_ in his cave near the north-facing beaches. Hence, his sister must have been waiting for him there, so he didn't even bother to land at the fortress, guiding _Balerion_ on a gentle descent to the wet black sand of _Dragonstone_ .

As the _Conqueror's_ dragon perched, the ground trembled under the weight of the gigantic creature, after which the dragon lowered its neck to allow him to descend. At the far end of the shoreline he could see that there was no one there except for his sister-wife who was standing next to the cave that his dragon used for shelter. Aegon headed that way, giving Jon a feeling that he didn't quite understand, but that he didn't like at all. If he were still alive and on his body, all the hair on his body would stand on end from the bad feeling he began to feel as he stepped on the dark sands of _Dragonstone_ on the day of his name seventh and thirtieth name day.

Noticing that her brother was approaching, Visenya seemed to snap out of her trance, staring into _Vhagar's_ cave _,_ turning quickly, and heading to meet him. After giving a kiss without much interest on the part of both, the sister wife of the _Conqueror_ greeted him.

“I was not sure if you would come, _Valonqar_. You generally decline my invitations to reclaim our old _Valyrian_ traditions” she said in a tone with more regret than reproach. Her gaze reflected incomprehension and Senya's demeanor was downcast.

“Senya you know that I have no interest in the dark arts or magic. If you told me that you think you have found the secret to forging Valyrian steel, how to mold stone with arcane arts, or a way to ensure the safety of our family in a certain way, I would accompany you without hesitation. I have come because you have said that you have found a way to defeat the _Darkness_ that Rhae saw in her dream, according to you and her, prophetic. If you remember correctly, that was only reason to start a war that cost the lives of thousands of people and has constrained my life, for which safety according to you I must fear. Therefore understand that I do not leave the government of six kingdoms and a war against a seventh, to come to contemplate flames and hope to see _What_ ? Glimpses of a supposed future? Prophecies shrouded in enigmas? Tell me that _The night is dark and full of terrors_?" Aegon replied defensively with some exasperation, trying to justify that the growing estrangement between them was not due to a lack of affection towards her, or to trying to recover the old Valyrian traditions, but because of the dark path she was taking. His eyes searched for his once loving sister, but now he saw only a person consumed by the future of the Targaryen dynasty and by a legendary foe.

“ _Valonqar,_ if you had agreed to any of those things, you would understand that I am not paranoid nor am I going crazy. I have seen in the flames the monsters of ice and blue eyes as the sky that Rhaenys spoke of. I've seen a red comet ripping through the dark sky, and then the _Dragonstone_ towers by the sea, crumbling as the dark tide washed over them, rising from the depths. Shadows in the shape of skulls, skulls that became mist, then bodies locked in grief, twisting, turning and breathing again. Through a column of fire, great winged shadows swirled across a harsh dark sky." Senya told him defiantly, almost like explaining to a child, with a sure and cold gaze that at first it wasn't there.

Neither Aegon nor Jon seemed to understand very well what Visenya had meant, so the _Dragon_ shrugged and trying to take another approach to the matter, he looked tenderly at his sister, but with confusion.

“ _Mandia_ , I honestly don't quite understand what you're saying. I do not deny that you see what you claim to see, nor do I deny the veracity of Rhaenys's dream. But you are never able to explain to me when or how this enemy will come. It is very difficult to fight an enemy that you do not know, nor can you know when it will appear and for which there is no evidence beyond stories written by the Andals after the invasion, enigmatic prophecies of _Essos, Asshai or Yi-Ti_. And what you just told me leaves me just as confused or more confused than before I heard it… ”Before he could finish what Aegon was about to say, Visenya interrupted him.

“What I mean is that I have found a way to ensure that our family is capable of dealing with the threat. There is only to do one ritual to perform in this cave. And by the way, I am glad that you came with your armor as I asked you”and without further ado, the _Conqueror's_ sister took him by the hand and began to direct him towards the cave from which _Vhagar_ was now emerging, to leave the seen what was covering his voluminous figure.

In the cave there were three stake of cut wood, with a dragon egg and a ruby at the base of each one. Above them, tied to a stake, were three adolescents of clear _Valyrian_ descent, according to the color of their hair.

From within the _Conqueror's_ body, Jon could more than once see Visenya performing blood magic after fighting during the conquest, casting strange incantations in Valyrian that included her _Dark Sister_ sword and her dragon's fire. When Jon reflected on what he had learned as Aegon Targaryen that did not appear in Maester Luwin's lessons, or in the citadel books, he generally veered around general ignorance of House Targaryen.

 _'Fire & Blood, it is not only motto of the house Targaryen. It is the epitome of Valyrian magic. I don't even want to imagine what kind of magic cause the Doom to be triggered. How much blood will it take to eradicate the greatest civilization ever known in one day?_ Jon's soul trembled as he thought of the fate of the _old blood_ before him.

Rumors and stories that Visenya Targaryen was an insider in black magic were not only not rumors, but Visenya spent her days in _Dragonstone_ reading volumes of books from _Ancient Valyria_ , drinking _Shade of the Evening_ brought directly from the _Warlocks_ of Qarth. Every so often _Shadowbinders_ of Asshai visited her, and in _Dragonstone_ , whenever Visenya was there, there was a priestess of the _R'hllor_ cult. The visit to _Oldtown_ was for the simple fact that the _Citadel_ was located and they had books on magic, which Senya accessed and _borrowed._

“Aegon, you must trust me. Although it seems brutal, and forbidden, it is necessary. By doing this, we will ensure the salvation not only of our family, but of all _Planetoss”_ pronounced Visenya almost imploringly, anticipating in _advance_ the negative reaction of the _Dragon_ before the image before him. Resting her hand on his arm and with a pleading look. An image Jon had never seen in the _Conqueror's_ older sister.

“We are not talking about something brutal or forbidden, you are talking about coldly murdering innocent people to do blood and fire magic. You know the rumors about what happened the last time the world saw spells of this kind performed on one of the flames in the world ... "

“That is why these three have emerged from Lord Velaryon's dungeons in _Driftmark._ They are accused of raping between the three a girl of just eleven days of the name. What we are going to do is compassion. These human wastes will serve a greater good than they could ever do in infinite lives ... Besides, they will not die burned, I am not a sadist _._ On the other hand, even if you flatter me, I would never have the power to produce magic with power like what was done in our ancestral land. " She said cutting him off, as she separated from Aegon's body, heading towards the pyres. Although she had her sword at her waist as usual, Visenya headed against one of the cave walls to deposit it against it. Then she bent down and from the floor picked up a cloth that was wrapped around an object.

When _Senya_ got up again, she directed a look full of complicity and knowledge towards Aegon, which he did not quite understand. But when Visenya began unwrapping the cloth, Jon could have sworn that he had died again. From the cloth appeared a dagger of Valyrian steel, with a black dragon bone hilt, topped in a gold flame.

' _The same dagger that was on my Aunt Lyanna's grave, the dagger that pierced my heart'_ thought, with a mixture of wonder and fear Jon. He was getting worse and worse feelings about the reasons behind Aegon's trip to Dragonstone. Few times Jon had such an extreme need to get out of the limbo in which he was, as he was beginning to have now.

 _'Harrenhal sure was another moment that you surely wanted to run away. I would have wanted in your place',_ the thought of the _conqueror_ replied sympathetically. Reflecting on what his soul carrier was saying, Jon soon had to agree with him. It was a necessary action, if he had had any control over Aegon's actions, he would have acted the same. But the screams and the smell. They would haunt him for his entire life or whatever state he was in, and for Aegon's life as well.

 _'Sometimes leading involves making difficult and controversial decisions. Regardless of the cost, if this action is for the future good and ensures your safety and that of those loyal to you, do it. Do it as hard and as effectively as possible, and don't look back. Leading is that each of those you are leading has their own vision on the issue. From the greatest of the Lords to the most uneducated peasant, everyone will have an opinion. If you start questioning every decision you make based on the opinions of others, your opinion will never have value, and therefore no one will follow_ you, Aegon lectured him, trying to explain to him how he was able to cope with having been the executor of the most terrifying and macabre scene that he had seen in his fifth and ten and twenty and two years of lives. Or of life and limbo.

However, the certain calm that he had managed to achieve when speaking with Aegon, disappeared with the chants that Visenya began to recite, as she went towards the three men gagged on the stakes, to accurately drive the dagger into each one's heart.

_“Skori se velkrys ropagon goes se zaldrīzes, iā arlie dārys kessa glaesagon isse se sȳndor, naejot morghūljagon se sīmonagon. Kessa se perzyssy hen Valyria, se jaqiarzir hen dāez ōregon se daorys kessa iōragon gō zirȳla, skoro syt kessa maghagon se ōños[ **[4]**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftn1) "_

Following this, she began to shake the blood from the dagger that Jon knew so well over the dragon eggs and rubies at the base of each of the three great pyres.

"Now you only must enter the pyre and made it lit by the flames of _Balerion_ , after cutting your palm with _Blackfyre"_ The conqueror's sister said to him, with a tone that left no doubt that it was an order, rather than a suggestion. Aegon at first seemed to disagree at all, much to Jon's relief, who shared his apprehension of blood magic.

"Visenya, are you crazy ?! How am I going to save the kingdom from whatever Rhae dreamed of, if I am burned to death in the Dragonstone caves? " Aegon replied with some indignation and little patience. To Jon's soul chill, Aegon had no problem with the human sacrifice his older sister had just made. Or he didn't want to get into the eternal discussion with his sister about the Valyrian blood bastards that roamed _Westeros._

 _'Surely that, but at least he's not going to force me to participate in this ritual of hells'_ Jon thought with some relief.

“Aegon, your dragon's flames will not affect you… and the armor will endure, I believe. You just have to make a small cut in your hand, stand between the three pyres and order _Balerion_ to light the flames that will bring a new dawn. No more no less. The hair that burns ... it will grow back, and well if you end up naked may have some use after the ritual " she replied with a suggestive smile at the latter and with a tone and look that denoted that Aegon had nothing to worry about .

To Jon's disbelief and awe, Aegon seemed to resolve that he had nothing to lose in any case, and ended up conforming to his sister's wishes.

 _'Sorry Jon. I can't even imagine what it must be like to be in your place right now, but please trust me and Senya. You know she would never do anything against me or the family.'_ and so Aegon, as he had done before, severed all connection to him while drawing _Blackfyre._ Placing himself in the position in front of the three bodies tied to the stakes, he then proceeded to cut off his left hand, as Visenya began to chant words that took Jon back twenty-two years in time.

_“_ _Skori se mele qēlos ānogar se sȳndror derēbagon,_

_Kivio Dārilaros,_

_se tresy hen suvion, se tresy hen perzys, se zaldrīzes sigligon, se dārys isse se sȳndor kessa sagon sigligon arlī rȳ suvion se perzys,_

_rȳ ōrbar se lopor, naejot sikagon se zaldrīzoti hen dōron,_

_se zirȳ kessa maghagon se ñāqes_ _[ **[5]"** ](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftn2)  
_

Jon began to panic as heard the same last words he had heard when died in the shadows of the crypts. Never since the day he appeared in a corner of the _Conqueror's_ soul did he want to think about that night, that birthday, and much less, those words. Before his helplessness, _Balerion_ descended on the opening of the cave, entering part of the snout in it. At that moment, Aegon spoke the word that Jon was dreading

" _Dracarys_ "

* * *

Jon saw the flame come out of the huge jaws of the _Black Dread_ and everything went black before him. But he felt as if his body, his _real_ body that had died twenty-two years ago, was in the flames that enveloped him. It felt like it had felt twenty-two years ago, burning from within, but it was also being scorched externally by flames. The pain was indescribable, he felt as if he was dying again. Except this time it felt like falling into a void but not like when his connection with Aegon was severed, but like he was actually falling. He tried to open his eyes, but he only saw darkness and felt warmth. A suffocating heat, typical of hells itself, but it was a heat that he was beginning to appreciate, that embraced him.

 _"Open your eyes_ " echoed within him the same voice from beyond the grave that he had heard in the crypts of _Winterfell_ in what seemed like an eternity ago.

" _I can't, this is not right, nothing is right, it's all crazy, or I'm dead and this is the different hells or what lies beyond. I don't understand it, but it's madness_ " Jon tried to shout but he made no sound.

" _Open your eyes_ " the magical, reverberating voice compelled him again, feeling in turn as if he were being pecked between the eyes by some bird.

 _"Open your eyes or you will drown in the dark_ " practically ordered the voice from beyond the grave.

As he tried to open them, Jon looked down and felt his insides melt. He was no longer in _Dragonstone_. He was falling and the ground was hurtling towards him now. The entire world spread out below him, a tapestry of white, brown, and green. He could see everything so clearly that, for a moment, he forgot to be afraid. He could see the entire kingdom, and everyone in it.

Until he stopped falling and was in his body. His body, because he was back in the body he had when he was five and ten years old the night he died in the crypts but wearing the clothes and armor of the _Dragon_ including _Blackfyre_ and the Valyrian steel band with rubies embedded in it.

He was in a clearing in a forest, beside a stream. A raven squawked nearby. From the color of the leaves on the trees and the temperature He'd say it was spring, but it felt like it really wasn't.

He began to wander around the clearing, trying to locate where he was, but noticed that he was not actually physically there. Blackfyre was too long for his height at five and ten days of the name, so it would have to be bouncing off the ground. But it didn't bounce, it didn't sound. It was as if he and the sword weren't really there. Until suddenly he heard the sound of a horse galloping, so he quickly hid behind some bushes.

Soon a beautiful white mare appeared before his eyes, on which a little knight was riding, with patched armor of different qualities and forms. On the back of the knight hung a shield made of weirwood, with a _Weirwood Tree_ whose blood seemed to form a smile, on a black field. He had not finished looking at the knight with the uneven armor, when he heard the sound of a horse approaching. The knight of the smiling tree must have noticed it too, because he took the shield again to place it with some problems on his right arm, at the same time that he was drawing a long sword with his left hand, but it seemed that he had some injury to his left shoulder, that of the sword. Jon didn't know who the knight was, or why he was here, but now he wanted to know who was coming for the knight and for what.

To his surprise, appeared on a splendid black destrier someone who undoubtedly, after twenty-two years in the body of the _Conqueror,_ could recognize, a Targaryen. In his black armor with the sigil of the house engraved with rubies on his chest, his helmet finished off with the three-headed dragon in red. The difference in size and bearing of the newly appeared Targaryen did not daunt the little knight at all. Rather the opposite as he raised his guard even more.

"Halt! Show your face _Ser,_ and we can resolve this without the King having to intervene” the deep and steely voice of the Targaryen echoed.

"HA! So that I can be burn by your excellence instead of by his grace. If you want to see my face, you just have to take off my helmet. Come get it, _my prince_ !" the _Laughing Tree Knight_ spoke in a voice distorted by the metal of the helmet. With no option to reply to the Targaryen in black armor, the small knight spurred his mare, raising his sword above his head in the direction of his newly appeared opponent. The surprise of the Targaryen was capital, because he could barely draw his sword in time to clumsily block the fierce attack of the mysterious knight.

“ _Ser,_ I don't understand why you are aggressive towards me. Would you have preferred that the _Kings Guard_ had come for you in search and capture? I can assure you that I have no intention of turning you over to my father, or doing you any harm. I just want to know the identity of the one who has so bravely and boldly dismounted knights greater than him, demanding as all reward for his heroics, that the defeated show honor to their squires. It is a remarkable fact in my opinion, to meet someone who prioritizes honor over material goods ” the dark knight tried to explain completely serenely, while he continued to easily block attacks without too much technique, but with the little knight's fury. This one seemed not to realize that the Targaryen was not attacking, nor was he really trying too hard in his defense with the sword, doing just enough so that the mysterious knight did not cause him any injury.

“Since when are the _Mysterious Knights_ persecuted and considered enemies of the _Crown_ for not wanting to show their face if they are not defeated, Your _Excellency_ ? If I remember correctly, Ser Barristan made himself known to the world by entering as one of them in his joust against Duncan _the prince of dragonflies"_ said between deep breaths for air, the little knight in the ill-fitting armor made of patches as he distanced himself from the huge black horse of the Targaryen to try to gain a breather.

Thanks to what he just heard, Jon was finally able to sort of place himself spatially and temporally. Jon knew he was in _Westeros_ at least after the 250 after the Conquest. Ser Barristan was still alive when he died, being the current Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's _King's Guard_ . The Duncan who had just been mentioned by the _mystery knight_ was the son of Aegon V _the Unlikely_ , who renounced his title of _Crown Prince_ for the love of a common village woman, Jenny of _Oldstones_ .

The rider Jon identified as Targaryen decided to remove his helmet and throw it and his sword to the ground, as a sign of peace. Under the first, a silver mane began to appear, from the sweat of the use of the helmet, crushed and stuck to his face. This revealed a young man of about nineteen or twenty, with typical inhuman Targaryen beauty. His skin was porcelain white and his eyes a deep indigo color, confirming the suspicions he had formed since he saw him appear in the clearing wherever he was. Before him was one of the _Conqueror's_ descendants, but one that must have been recent. Mentally reviewing, he quickly dismissed Jaehaerys II, for not even when he was _Crown Prince_ was he young. Before him had to be the _Mad King_ or the _Last Dragon_. And from the conversation between the two knights, Jaehaerys II was not a king who went down in history for burning people. Rhaegar Targaryen was the _Prince_ who was leaving his life in the hands of the mysterious knight. Jon at least already knew exactly what he was in before Robert's Rebellion, although he still didn't know where he was, or why.

The Knight of the _Laughing Tree_ seemed totally taken aback by the surrendering attitude of the _Crown Prince_ , doubting whether to resume his attack before an unarmed and surrendered enemy, or if he fled. While the patched armor knight was making up his mind, the _Last Dragon_ had descended from his enormous black destrier, and with complete calm and impassivity he was approaching determinedly towards the mare of the mysterious knight.

“Don't go a step further, _Your Excellency_. I will not hesitate to separate your head from your shoulders if you do so ”the little knight pronounced with a metallic tone, doubtful and still agitated. Rhaegar Targaryen seemed unfazed by the threat of it, continuing his advance until he was within distance of taking the reins of the horseman's mare in patched armor.

Seeing the _prince's_ proximity, the mysterious knight quickly raised his sword and placed it on the Targaryen's chin, much to Jon's horror and the utter reassurance of the threatened. “I told you not to take another step! You may not be how they say your father is, but you should not be very sane when someone threatens to cut off your head and you still continue to tempt your fate... "pronounced in an excited and nervous way, while the left arm in with which he held the sword, shook.

"And yet I continued my advance and my head continues on my shoulders" Rhaegar interrupted with a playful tone and a half smile that barely reached his eyes. Before the mysterious knight could realize it, the prince of _Dragonstone_ pushed the sword aimed at his chin away with his gauntlet right hand, closing the narrow distance between himself and the mare in less than a blink. He grabbed the reins of the white saddle and, with a swift, sudden movement, drew a dagger from his right hip, slicing through the bridle of the saddle, causing the little knight to fall. Before he could rise, the _Last Dragon_ was straddling the mystery knight's chest, resting the newly emerged dagger in the gap between gorget and helmet.

Seeing the dagger in more detail, Jon wanted to flee from where he was, but fearing he would be seen by the two people on the other side of the bushes, he stood still.

' _Again that seven times damned dagger'_ thought as he contemplated how the dagger with which he had taken his life twenty-two years ago and with which Visenya had performed the ritual in the caves of Dragonstone, reappeared before his eyes. It seemed like a macabre joke from the gods. Ever since the Red Star appeared that night of the day of his name, every time he had seen that dagger, what followed was always something terrible and painful for him.

Returning to what was happening in front of him, he saw how the mysterious knight raised his arms in surrender, which Rhaegar took as a signal to rise from his chest, to extend a hand and help him up. The knight, after a few moments of hesitation, accepted the offered hand and got back on his feet. The mystery knight would have been 1'70 tall, but seemed insignificant next to Rhaegar Targaryen, who would be around 1'95, and in his imposing dark armor he appeared much larger than he really would have. The picture was at least curious, because they looked like a child and a grown man.

However, neither Jon, nor Rhaegar Targaryen, judging by the gasp he let out and the wide eyes that had grown, expected what lay beneath the helm.

It was a girl, with long hair, black as raven's wing that if it were not tangled and sweaty, it would descend almost to her waist. The pale complexion was a beautiful contrast to the reddish cheeks from the effort just made. An elongated face with sensual and fluffy lips, a thin and slightly upturned nose. And eyes like his father's, but smoother. They were like two pools of Valyrian steel, throwing daggers at the _Crown Prince_.

"Lady Lyanna Stark, _Your Excellency,"_ uttered with false courtesy, which Jon now knew was his aunt. He could already understand how the dagger could have come to her grave, but he did not understand why his father would keep in it the personal dagger of his sister's rapist ...

* * *

Before he could continue with his thoughts, the clearing in the forest he was in disappeared and he was once again falling into absolute emptiness.

Images of a tournament in what he knew was Harrenhal flashed before his eyes. He could see his young father dancing with a beautiful and voluptuous maiden with purple eyes and hair black as the moonless night. She saw that same maiden having intercourse with a man who looked a lot like her father, but taller and bigger, with a more pronounced jaw. He saw his aunt and the Prince of _Dragonstone_ strolling hand in hand through the _godswood of the_ ancient castle, with the _falling stars_ as the only witnesses. And he watched as Rhaegar Targaryen crowned his aunt Lyanna as the _Queen of Love and Beauty._

* * *

And again he found himself falling, watching the whole world fall before him. But if Jon closed his eyes, he could continue to see images that he was unable to understand or cohere with each other, until he found himself on the _Island of the Faces,_ witnessing how Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark were married before a large _Weirwood Tree_ in the ancient island of _God's Eye_. His aunt wore a blue and white satin dress, trimmed with a silver cloth. Her long raven hair was loose, and her eyes were filled with adoration as she looked at her future husband. The _Crown Prince_ who, according to the official story, had kidnapped and raped her against her will. The ceremony was being officiated by a _Septon_ with a crystal crown resting on his head.

"Father, Blacksmith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his / and he / she is mine from this day until the end of my days." They both intoned, without regrets or doubts. They were husband and wife. A pact sealed when a knight of the _Kingsguard,_ with a greatsword that appeared translucent on his back, handed Rhaegar the black Targaryen wedding cloak, engraved with the bloody-red three-headed dragon. Lyanna knelt as the _Last Dragon_ tenderly wrapped the cloak around her shoulders.

* * *

When he closed and opened his eyes again, the Isle of the _Faces_ had disappeared and Jon was in the middle of a battle in a mighty river, which could not be other than the Trident. Feeling strangely detached from everything, he could see how the left flank of the rebels broke through the royal lines, forcing them to retreat, but the rest of the line continued to resist.

 _"From what my father always told me, Robert broke the royal lines with a few turns of his hammer,"_ Jon recalled. _'But Rhaegar isn't making it easy for them at all._ '

 _"A classic example of the history written by the victors_ " echoed bitterly and with contempt throughout the battlefield, the voice from beyond the grave that had told him to open his eyes. Jon could barely bear the screams, the screams of pain and death grunts coming from the dying. He could see swords piercing armor and men drowning in the ravenous currents of the river. It was like moving through a vivid dream. He watched, strangely distant from everything, as Robert and Rhaegar lined up directly with each other.

The prince had been dismounted, and now he was fighting standing on the water, just as his father had told him. Not far from both, the corpses were already piling up. Jon averted his gaze from the numerous dead, focusing on the final show-down between Rhaegar and Robert.

The Prince attacked first, launching himself at Robert with an impressive sword arc from over his left shoulder down to the right side of his foe. Jon flinched at the sound of the _Trident Demon's_ pierced steel cuirass.

This should have been enough to finish off any other man, but Robert Baratheon was a different matter. Though he stepped back, he grabbed that hammer, the hammer that his father Eddard Stark couldn't even lift, and arched it gracefully through the air. The impact of hitting the Prince's body made even Jon recoil, gritting his teeth. Then Rhaegar seemed to fall in slow motion, his Aunt Lyanna's name on his lips as he lost himself in the rushing stream of the mighty river.

And suddenly, the ground disappeared again and he again experienced an infinite fall ...

* * *

Jon was falling without restraint from the infinity of the sky, towards a ground that was getting closer and closer. He closed his eyes in fear of impact, but when he opened them again, he was standing in front of a door in a tower in the _Red Mountains_ of Dorne. The smell of iron, and the blood that had numbed him on the Trident, kept seeping through his nose. He had already had enough battles to know when the scent was so potent that it spoke of death, or one that would come soon. _His heart_? was pounding again in his chest after an eternity without feeling it. His hands were sweaty and he had a hard time to not shaking. Although he didn't even know what awaited him on the other side of the door, Jon was panicky at what might be found behind it, since he hadn't felt so alive since before he died.

" _Remember_ , _only death pays for life"_ Resounded a female voice long tried to forget by Jon's conscience, the voice full of magic from the night that this whole bizarre experience had begun.

Jon proceeded to open the door slowly, and could not help the surprise that arose in his person, when he found himself after twenty-two years, before who was undoubtedly his father during Robert's Rebellion. But this one did not see him. It was like he wasn't really there. Just like in his aunt's wedding, just like Harrenhal, just like during the Trident _._

His father was kneeling on the side of a bed where his aunt was _,_ with a midwife and a maid on the other side. Even sweaty and sickly pale, Lyanna Stark was still a beauty to behold. Her expression was one of pain, sadness and fear. From her belly down, the bedding was bathed in blood. Winter roses scattered around her.

"Ned ..." Jon's aunt whispered, and he couldn't help the tear that rolled down his cheek, as his father took Lyanna's hand lovingly.

"I'm here sister." Ned Stark said with a shallow smile, which faded, as Lyanna's shoulders began to shake, sobbing silently

"Is it really you? Aren't you a dream?" asked in a whisper his aunt.

"I'm really here, Lya. I'm with you." Lyanna Stark's sobs grew less controlled as her hand squeezed Jon's father's with all that was left in her.

"I missed you big brother."

Jon felt helpless at the familiar scene he was watching. He wanted to comfort his father who was shedding tears like he had never seen in his life. He wanted to hug his aunt and assure her that everything would be fine, but he knew that it would not be like that and that he could not do more than be a ghost that he witnessed as an exceptional witness, things that he still did not understand why.

"I've missed you too." Eddard Stark whispered.

"I want to be brave." His aunt begged weakly

"You are," his father said as he raised a hand to wipe the sweat and tears from his sister's eyes.

"I'm not. I don't want to die" Lyanna said with a small voice, trying to shake her head, but without the strength to do so.

"You will not die". The words Ned Stark spoke were bitter in his ears, knowing they were false, before he turned to one of the women.

"Give her some water." Lord Stark commanded the midwife, who appeared to obey before Lyanna refused her.

"No, I don't want water."

"Is there a maester?" his father asked aloud towards the two women.

"Listen to me Ned." His aunt whispered, and Eddard Stark had to lean down to listen.

"His name ... is ... Aegon Targaryen. Protect him, Ned. You have to protect his heritage. Promise me. Promise me Ned."

Jon's father threw his head back, his eyes locked on Lyanna's, watching the life in them slowly go away. Jon didn't understand anything.

' _Do I have a Targaryen cousin? Where is he? Why have I never heard of him? '_ He was trying to fit in what Jon was seeing. Although considering all the lies he had just magically witnessed and what he knew first-hand that the story of the _Citadel_ told about Aegon's _Conquest_ , nothing would surprise him anymore. After all, he wasn't even alive. So, ' _How can I question what is really true and what is not?'_ and went on staring at the tragic scene before him

Eddard Stark nodded, and watched as she smiled, the midwife bringing a newborn baby for his father to hold.

"Robert cannot find out. He would kill my son, you know he would. The only way he can be sure is from his rightful throne. Only then will he have the power to prevent him from being harmed." Lyanna said as Eddard looked at his nephew, Jon's cousin, the rightful king of the seven kingdoms.

When the baby's eyes opened, Jon let out a gasp, which no one in the room heard. The baby had his eyes and his hair. Quickly all the pieces of the puzzle began to fit into his mind, which was boiling with all the information he had just absorbed.

' _Robert's rebellion was obviusly built on lies. This is still King even though Rhaegar never raped Lyanna and married her and they had a son who would be the heir to the Targaryen house. I have never heard of this cousin of mine, who has the same features as mine, just as I have never heard of who my mother is… '_

 _"No! It can't be! I'm Eddard Stark's bastard son and some whore, not the Last Dragon"_ Jon shouted, but nobody heard him. In front of him he looked like his _mother?_ exhaled between salty tears, her last breath, while she locked her eyes on his, as if she were capable of seeing him at that moment.

“ _You know inside who you are. You have known it for twenty-two years, even if you have not wanted to accept it ”_ the female voice that tormented him resounded sweetly and magically.

" _Eddard Stark would not lie to everyone in the Kingdom, he would not lie to his own nephew in case I were! He is honorable, he would never have broken the promise he swore to his sister if she were my mother… ”_ frustrated trying to defend what seemed more and more indefensible

 _"Mother, Mother, Mother"_ resounded the mocking echoes produced by the horrifying squawk of the crow that he heard for the last time in the crypts of _Winterfell,_ when he was prostrate, without knowing it, before his mother's tomb.

Suddenly he felt as if a hand rested tenderly but firmly on his right shoulder, turning everything into darkness. Jon wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to see Eddard Stark and ask him if anything he was seeing made sense. He wanted to be in the _Conqueror's_ body again with Rhaenys strolling the beaches of _Dragonstone._ Jon felt like he could drown in the dark and in his tears

 _“Aegon Targaryen, Dragon Reborn, King in The Shadows. Your time to return to perform your Duty has come."_ The male voice from beyond the grave boomed, in a way that left no doubt who he meant by his words. The darkness gave way to a vision, in the middle of which he could discern the largest _Weirwood Tree_ he had ever seen, in the middle of a clearing in a gigantic all-snow forest.

" _The answers you have yet to find are here"_ melodiously intoned the female voice.

After that, he felt as if he were in the middle of a storm of fire and snow that engulfed him. His body felt like it was being broken to be put back together. The infinite pain that he felt after stabbing himself with the dagger and after Visenya's ritual returned to every fiber of his entire body. He felt as if he were incinerating from the inside, as if the fire came out of him and burned everything, melting the snow with the flame, flooding his nostrils with the salty scent of melted snow and smoke from the extinguished fire, that intoxicated him. He needed to breathe air again, he needed to open his eyes, he needed to get out of the damn nightmare that was his life after his death ...

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) Little brother

[[2]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftnref2) Sister

[[3]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftnref3) Little sister

[[4]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) When the hammer falls on the dragon, a new king will live in the shadows, die and rise. He will put out the flames of Valyria, he will restore the Glory of the Old Freehold and no one will stand before him, because he will bring the light

[[5] ](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45271165?view_adult=true#_ftnref2) _When the Red Star blood and darkness reunite, The Prince who was Promised, the son of ice, the son of fire, the Dragon Reborn, The King in the Shadows, He will be reborn on ice and fire, amid smoke and salt he will be reborn, awakening the Dragons of the Stone to bring the Dawn_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon at the end of this chapter, thinks and blindly believes that he had no control over Aegon's actions / thoughts when he was in his body, but he understands, although without understanding it, why he was in Aegon's body.  
> He now knows what a Targaryen is, he knows his name is Aegon, who is the son of Lyanna Stark-Targaryen and Rhaegar Targaryen, he knows that the rebellion was "based on a lie" and he knows that the long night is coming. Now he understands High Valyrian (a language in which he thinks and expresses himself without even realizing it) and Visenya's prophecy, although she will not understand it.  
> He will still have the body of 15 years, but he has actually lived 37 (15 like Jon and 22 inside Aegon)  
> From here on in this story, except for specific occasions / people, Jon Snow will be referred to as Aegon Targaryen / Dragon Reborn / King in the Shadows. Only the use of the name Jon to refer to himself will be constant (In my imaginary canon of the books he is also called Aegon, although if one day I make a fiction with the real Aegon surviving his name it will be yes or yes Jaehaerys) in his internal monologue and it will be seen when we return to a POV of his why. And for this it will be missing, there will be no POV Jon in a few chapters  
> In a certain way Visenya is one of the bad guys in this fiction. She is not bad bad bad, but she is a good bad who would go to extremes for what she thinks is right and good for her family. Not to mention his little addiction to magic.  
> It won't be the last time we go back to the years before / after the conquest, nor to the POV of Aejon the Conqueror  
> Next chapter Rhaegar


	6. Rhaegar I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting in the shadows between ghosts of the past and present

**Rhaegar I **

_"The Prince of Dragonstone was bookish to a fault. He was reading so early that men said Queen Rhaella must have swallowed some books and a candle whilst he was in her womb. **Rhaegar** took no interest in the play of other children. The teachers were awed by his wits, but his father's knights would jest sourly that Baelor the Blessed had been born again. Until one day Prince **Rhaegar** found something in his scrolls that changed him. No one knows what it might have been, only that the boy suddenly appeared early one morning in the yard as the knights were donning their steel. He walked up to Ser Willem Darry, the master-at-arms, and said, 'I will require sword and armor. It seems I must be a warrior.' "  
_ ASoS-Daenaerys I

* * *

When the hammer swung in an arc over his cousin's head, he knew it was the end, and time stopped. The sun shone, reflecting off the waters of the _Trident_ , just as it did on the weapon wielded by Robert Baratheon.

He knew that he would die here today, that his family would not rule again for years to come. But the dragons would rise, three heads bringing fire and blood once more.

The _crown prince was_ cursing his obsession, the gift his blood had given him. Although the magic of it had practically faded over the centuries, just as the magic of the world had been slowly diminishing since the _Doom_ of Valyria. His obsession with prophecy arose from the flashes he had in his dreams, where he saw, the things that he believed were yet to come. Scenes that were never very clear, often hazy enough to be almost indistinguishable. He had been a fool, to believe he was the Promised Prince. That was only compounded by the very nature of his birth ... The tragedy.

 _'What tragedy have I really experienced, a wealthy nobleman who would have once been king, with the world at my fingertips?'_ he thought sadly and serenely in his last moments of life. Isolation, despair, misunderstanding in the face of what in his dreams he saw as an imminent threat of overwhelming force and impossible odds, were the conditions that led him to believe in a _prophecy_ .

 _'This has been my tragedy'_ in one of his last thoughts clearly before the end came.

At least Rhaegar knew that his son would be the man to bear this burden. He had seen it vividly. A figure dressed in black and scarlet, with a sword in his hands with a glow that seemed to have a life of its own. Around him, the snow collided with a torrent of fire, forming a kind of tornado of ice and fire that rose towards the infinity of the sky, which was crossed by three gigantic dragons and flocks of enormous black crows. Rhaegar wished he could have seen his son's grown face, but sadly he didn't. Of his son, he had only seen his back, where a long, silky cloak rested, black with an enormous sigil of the house Targaryen in blood red at its center, fluttering in the wind. Just like his long silver hair, lighter even than Rhaegar's. On his head rested a thin band of Valyrian steel set with square red rubies. The crown of _Conqueror._

Beside his son side were two women, one a relative and the other not. To the right was his Rhaenys, because that jet black mane with silver highlights was all too familiar. She stood tall, proud and defiant in the misty winds of snow and ice. On the other side, though unfamiliar, the woman was clearly of his blood. Taller than Rhaegar's daugther, with long silver and blonde braids, slim in constitution but with a determination of steel in her gesture and attitude. Behind them, was Lyanna with another girl who remarkably resembled her and what looked like a pack of wolves, with a huge blue-gray wolf with yellow eyes like the sun, at the head of all.

Turning his eyes and thoughts back to what was before his eyes, Rhaegar stared into the enraged face of his future assassin, Robert Baratheon. In those moments the personification of the words of his house. Without a doubt, ' _His is the Fury'._

Robert's hammer snapped its arc through the air to crash terribly against his chest. It had split his ribs, piercing Rhaegar's lungs, causing his life to escape with the last breaths of air and a name on his lips.

_"Lyanna ..."_

After that he fell sideways, feeling how the water entered his body, finally stopping breathing, his eyes closed to see only darkness ... When it dissipated, in the gloom of where the hells he was, the only thing that Rhaegar could glimpse were flashes of light that could not quite identify its source, reflected against a wall of ancient ashlar that was in front of him, smoke, melted snow and dust in suspension around him. He felt like being oppressed by a searing ball of pressure compressing every fiber of his body.

 _'Are these the Seven Hells that the Septons proclaim so much about? If so, I regret not having been more pious_ ' he thought fleetingly, before finishing adjusting to his surroundings. He tried to accommodate his vision to the mixture of darkness and ghostly light that covered the gloomy ' _room_ , _cubicle_ ?' in what had he ' _woken up_ ?' He was in a side-lying position, quite similar to how he fell into the waters of the _Trident_ , amid debris and rubble of what appeared to be masonry and construction mortar. As he tried to move, he could see that he was still wearing all his armor, although it was intact, just as it had been before the battle of the _Trident_ .

Trying to get up, Rhaegar leaned his arms to get up and shake off the rubble of him, but a sound soon made him realize that he was not the only person there. Behind him he heard a deep gulp of breath, and his eyes couldn't quite believe what he was seeing when he turned his head to see the source of it.

 _"Lya….?"_ He said in a weak voice, as if afraid that if he said it louder, the image before him would disappear. Half lying down, trying to rise forward, in the same white and blue satin dress, adorned with a silver cloth that they married on the _Isle of the Faces_ , her gaze steaming like Valyrian steel showed confusion and total misplacement at the situation. Her physical appearance was such and how he remembered her with seven and ten days of the name when he left her in the Tower of Joy in Dorne, to try to defeat the _Rebels_ , to later join with the defeated and their loyal followers, to overthrow his father through a Council of the _Seven Kingdoms._

 _'Obviously, and as usual, it seems that nothing has gone as I expected'_ Rhaegar began to think with more and more melancholy.

He finished getting up quickly, pulling off him and what he believed to be his wife, a kind of granite slab that had been broken into several pieces. After that, he brought his hand to the cheek of the love of his life, but without making contact with his white skin, for fear that if he touched her it would disappear.

"Lyanna, is it you?" He asked this time more decisively, formulating his question with a mixture of hope that the answer would be negative and fear that what was left of his soul would be broken, if it was affirmative. His gaze conveyed supplication, as well as despair at the possible answer.

" _Rhae ...? It's you? This is a dream? Are we in the afterlife? "_ Lyanna answered after swallowing hard, with a small and fearful voice. With a nod of the head, he confirmed that she was in front of him, and that she was dead, like him. Before he could offer any words of comfort, Lya's bodily demeanor tightened like a harp string, rising with a speed uncharacteristic of someone who should be dead.

"SLAP" rang out Lyanna's slap across his cheek.

“YOU PROMISE YOU WOULD RETURN! YOU SWEAR ON YOUR WHOLE FAMILY, ON OUR SON THAT YOU WOULD RETURN! YOU LEFT ME ENCLOSED IN A FUCKING TOWER OF DORNE TO PROTECT THE FRUIT OF YOUR STUPID PROPHECY, WHILE ALL THE PEOPLE WHO LOVED AND APPRECIATED US DIED FOR A WAR THAT WE STARTED! " Lyanna yelled, her voice, although muffled by the walls of the dilapidated place they were in, leaving no doubt of her state and feelings towards him at that moment.

“Lya… I… I… I never thought that everything would end as it did, because I don't know this. But from your reaction and presence here, I don't think you survived me too long… Could I know how you got through here, because without a doubt this must be the afterlife?" In his voice Rhaegar tried to convey all the guilt and regret he felt. He was not going to apologize for something that he knew could not be forgiven. He was confident that once the situation of both of them was assimilated, they could at least see the positive side, that even in the afterlife they were together. With his eyes he tried to convey to her all the devotion he felt for her, and that if necessary, he would die a thousand times more for her.

Unfortunately for him, the question he had just asked his wife made her stiffen even more, resembling the string of a bow before shooting an arrow. Everything indicated that Rhaegar was not going to like the next thing he was going to hear from his late wife. She began to interlock her hands in a frantic way, looking at him again and again, as if looking for something in his dark eyes, but she could not find it, or what she found is not what she expected. Unable to do anything to prevent it, Lyanna began to cry uncontrollably. Therefore, he decided to close the small distance between them and hug her with all his strength, trying to reassure her, that whatever had happened, it was going to be okay. He had seen his son fight the _Dark_. Although of course, in his vision there was also Lyanna, and she was in front of him, dead, like him. Still he looked at her in the sweetest way he could as she began to calm down slightly and returned a gaze with some warmth.

“After your death in the _Trident_ … _sob… sob… sob_ … I just wanted to die, I wanted to go wherever you were… _snifff_ … The idea that my brother was supporting the people who had killed their brother-in-law and who wanted to end their nephew's made me sick to my stomach… ”and she couldn't continue, so he wrapped his left arm around her, while directing his right hand to her chin to lift it and urge her to continue the story. Whatever happened, they couldn't do anything anymore. So when he noticed his wife looking at him, he smiled one of the smiles that only she was able to get from him. A smile that reached his eyes. He just wanted to reassure his wife that there was nothing wrong with what had happened in the past, that wherever they were, everything would be fine now that they were together. It seemed to have an effect as Lyanna relaxed a bit and held back her crying, leaving Lya in a slight sob and a look in her eyes, that although lost, seemed to be seeing every moment of what she was going to tell.

“I saw no reason to continue, until one day Arthur swore to me that he would do whatever it took to keep me and our son safe. If he, Oswell, and Gerold were to become the boy's parents and raise him, they would. If we had to hide and some of them pretend to be my family, they would. And if we did have to flee to _Essos_ , to raise him in safety and then return… ”Without letting finish what his wife was saying, Rhaegar interrupted her.

“How would Arthur, Oswell and Gerold just protect our son and you? What about Elia, what about Rhaenys, what about your nephew, Ash's and your brother Brandon son? What of my mother and my brother? " his voice trembled with nervousness at the answer his wife might offer him. Her face of sadness, grief, and poorly concealed anger did not help calm Rhaegar's nerves.

"Rhaegar ... I don't know how to tell you ... but from what I know, they are all dead or exiled," Lya said, while he felt his legs turn to mud and they were unable to hold his _weight?_ Where the gods wanted him and Lyanna to be, he suddenly felt as if he had died again. His little Rhaenys dead. The only joy of his life until Lyanna appeared, dead. 

Although their marriage was the product of political duty and his father's obsession because his wife must _had Valyrian_ blood, Elia was his friend and confidant. Having annulled the marriage between the two, many months before the Harrenhal Tournament, she agreed to keep up the charade so as not to arouse possible suspicion in Varys and her father's anger. Little Arthur Dayne, the son of her best friend and her brother-in-law, the by-product of a night of lust, in the blissful tournament ruined by the seven-time damn master of whispers. The baby was not guilty or related to what was happening in the kingdom, except to be the cover for Ash maidenhead and for Rhaegar's supposed marriage to Elia before his father.

Although he had somehow recovered Lyanna, he preferred to return to the darkness into which he was plunged after his death. In there, there was no pain, no suffering. There was nothing. And for now it seemed that nothing was better than what was facing who once was called the _Last Dragon._

_'The Dragon of Doom should have called me'_

"Who survived? Do you know what happened… to those who didn't?" his voice was tired, shaky and sad. His many times revered metallic and warm voice did not appear to come out of any of his vocal cords. The roles had been reversed, and now it was Lya who was bending over him, trying to physically comfort him by gently and lovingly resting a hand on his shoulder. Although he was unable to feel the warmth of the contact through the armor, the mere gesture of Lyanna trying to make him feel better was already a relief to his soul.

“Rhaegar… are you sure you want to know? We are dead, what difference does the past matter. They would only be more ghosts to carry on your consciousness and soul in this other life"she pronounced doubtfully and with some regret for having brought up the subject. But he needed to know what had become of his family and who were responsible. Even if it were from the afterlife, Rhaegar something would do to deliver justice and revenge to those who offended the Targaryen house.

“Lya… in order to take it on, I need to know. For now it seems that we are in the afterlife only you and me ... for the rest of eternity ... and sooner or later the circumstances of your death and that of my family, would have come out. Better to take the blow from the beginning, than the fear of what could have happened consume me." He said resignedly and with pleading eyes to his wife. His grimace was one of pain and sorrow.

“The news that reached us in the Tower was that your mother and brother went into exile to _Dragonstone_ with the royal fleet and the support of the ultra-loyalist houses of the crown lands… the rest were killed during the sacking of the _Red Keep_ and _Kings Landing.”_ His wife uttered the last thing almost in a whisper. But enough for Rhaegar to come out of the stupor he was in.

"WHO IS THE RESPONSIBLE? !!! HOW CAME TO HAPPEN?" he screamed with practically no control over his tone, or over his body, which had become tense and rigid, fury emanating from every one of his pores. Only Lyanna's hand, gently resting on the armor on his shoulder, was able to calm the firestorm and emotions that swept through Rhaegar's body, keeping him in the position he was in. His wife's face expressed more and more sorrow.

' _This is how my face must have looked when I told him about the madness that my father did with his father and brother', he_ thought as he looked at the expression of infinite sadness that was being printed on his wife's face.

“I don't know exactly how, but I know what Arthur told me. Apparently someone from within the city opened the gates to the army of Tywin Lannister, who after your defeat at the _Trident_ set out against the clock towards _Kings Landing_ to, and I quote Arthur _'Through ruthless action, gain loyalty. and a place among the victors of your cousin Robert's Rebellion. '_ Ser Jaime in non-established circumstances, apparently murdered your father from behind and then died defending little Rhaenys from a certain Amory Lorch, when in his despair at his inability to defeat the Lannister, the knight of the westerlands overturned a carafe of _wildfire_ in the princess stays, killing all three in an instant. While this was happening, a certain Ser Gragor Clagane, or Clegain ... I don't know well, ' _The_ _Mountain that rides'_ called him Arthur… ”Lyanna's voice was interrupted, breaking, looking for a way to tell him what had happened with his nephew his friend and former wife.

Rhaegar, who was still trying to process what he had heard, did not know if he wanted to finish knowing what had happened. _'If, after the horrors Lya is telling me, the death of little Arthur and Elia is difficult for her to tell, it must have been something dreadful.'_ So he decided to interrupt her. He grabbed Lyanna's right hand that still rested on his chest, and treasured it with his two hands, bringing it to his face, trying to find a sweet and warm contact, that would relieve him of the nightmare that the afterlife was being.

Somewhat calmer, but still a mass of red-hot fury, Rhaegar resolved the question of who his wife was referring to, with a tone of disgust, contempt and violence that he did not know he was capable of possessing.

"Ser Gregor Clegane, I knighted him myself at Tywin's request ... My father was crazy, but within that madness he always really knew who our worst enemy was" he spat the sentence with a bitter aftertaste.

"That being, because he cannot be called a man, smashed our nephew's skull against a wall and…." Unable to finish speaking, Lyanna knelt in front of him and broke into a heartbroken cry again. Her cheeks were stained by the tears and the suspended dust of the cabin where he and his wife had appeared.

“It's okay Lya, you don't have to go on. We can talk about this at another time…” he tried to reassure Lyanna, in view of how traumatic it was for her to retell what happened after her death at the hands of Robert.

"No," she interrupted firmly and decisively, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"The past is in the past, I already cried for them in life and you deserve to know their fate just as I do. Besides, it's not all bad news,”she told him, trying to crack a half smile. Rhaegar was aware that Lya was avoiding referring to the end of Elia, but he would not press the issue. If something was true with Lyanna, it was that she was not a person made to do something that she did not believe in or was not comfortable with, and it was clear that the end of the woman she sometimes claimed to have displaced was not something she wanted to refer to.

"You mean our son?" Rhaegar said in a warm voice he didn't imagine he could have. The smile that suddenly lit up Lyanna's face was all the confirmation he needed to know that it was so.

“Aegon Targaryen, the sixth of his name, in homage to the _Conqueror_ how we decide before you departed from the Tower. That's how I lost my life… when I gave birth to our son… ”she said at first excited and cheerily, ending in a low and sad tone.

“You don't know how sorry I am Lya. In the end we each die on our particular battlefields. At least I know that between Arthur and Gerold they will have educated and raised him better than my father to me, being totally loyal to him. And Oswell will surely have taught him what he called _the things of life_ , that no one but him seemed to understand what it meant ... "

"Rhaegar ... my brother ..." interrupted abruptly, and with a face of infinite sadness his wife.

" _What_ _brother_ ? Benjen? " he asked doubtfully and fearfully.

"No ... _Ned_ ... I don't know how, but when I had just given birth and I started to bleed to death, he appeared through the door of our room in the Tower ... with _Dawn_ in hand" Lyanna intoned with mixed emotions in her voice. Rhaegar would swear he was dying for the third time since darkness and nothingness had disappeared, awakening where the hells he was. Arthur Dayne was Rhaegar's brother in everything but blood. He had knighted him. He had taught him to fight. He had been his loyal friend and supporter throughout his life. And he was dead. Killed at the hands of the brother of the woman whom he was sworn to protect. Rhaegar could only think of one thing

“What happened to Aegon, what happened to our son Lyanna? Don't tell me that your brother…” Without being able to finish the sentence, Lyanna's brow furrowed and she began to tell him the last moments of her life, crying again. Which without realizing it, he had been doing silently since he learned of his daughter's death, noticing how tears began to gather on his chin.

“When I saw him appear, I thought it was a dream. How it happened to me when I saw you now. But he was real, he was there and he was the only person he could trust at the moment. I made him swear that he would protect our son, as well as his inheritance and position. And despite all his failures, Ned has honor. He would not fail his promise ... "

"Are you saying that _literally_ _our son's life was promised_ ?" he said in a tone that reminded him of the tone his father might have in his abscesses of paranoia. And he began to laugh uncontrollably. Lyanna was looking at him without understanding anything of the situation, her eyes demanding an explanation in the face of her husband's sudden insanity. Trying to breathe and cursing inwardly, Rhaegar gulped and began to explain the reason for his apparent insanity.

“Gorghan of Old Ghis once wrote that a prophecy is like a treacherous woman. She takes your member in her mouth, and you moan with pleasure as she does it and you think, how sweet, how good, how good this is ... and then her teeth snap together and your moans turn into screams. That is the nature of the prophecy, Gorghan said. The prophecy will rip your dick out at all times ... I believed Aegon would be _the Promised Prince_ by the red comet that appeared in the sky during the night we conceived him ... _But it was not like that_ . Our son is the _Promised Prince,_ because our actions, in one way or another, led to our death and therefore our son's life was promised. "

“Rhaegar, what difference does the damn prophecy make now? At least we can rest easy knowing that he will be alive, being brought up to take the throne for my brother…. ” Before Lyanna could finish what she was saying, the floor of the stay they were in began to vibrate.

Now with his eyes and _his body?_ more accustomed to whatever the plane they had find themselves in, Rhaegar took a better look at where they were. It was like a kind of rectangular cave and had what looked like an opening in front of the position that Lyanna and him were in, which was blocked by a pair of half-destroyed and burned wooden beams next to a mountain of rubble. Between which penetrated the ghostly light offered by the gloom with which they were able to see beyond their own hands. The vibration caused the debris that were blocking the entrance begin to give way, producing an opening that allowed the light source to be seen. A huge column of fire that seemed to rise into infinity. Lyanna seemed to read his mind, for she stood up just like him,both heading towards the opening and seeing what was on the other side of the mountain of rubble, wood and ashlar, that had been blocking the entrance to the room where they woke up in this other life.

On the other side, the image that he and Lyanna found before their eyes, left them totally puzzled and somewhat scared. This was certainly a hell. The gruesome scene of destruction before them could not be described otherwise. Upon reaching the cleft between the cave ceiling and the mountain of rubble, they saw what looked like some kind of crater. In the center of it, emerging from what seemed to be the earth itself, an infinite column of dark fire, almost black, rose up into the black sky. Wich seemed to be only illuminated by the ghostly glow that the column was emitting, and by the flickering of what appeared to be a huge red comet hanging from the sky, just where the mysterious column was rising. Around the flame, the crater where Rhaegar and Lyanna were leaning, formed. The slopes of which were shaped by what Rhaegar would swear to once must have been cyclopean ashlar walls, now pulverized to nothing but a formless mass of gravel, dirt, stones, melted snow, and burned wood. The entire surface of the crater seemed to be red hot, the snow evaporating as it hit the ground. The heat that the vertical column of fire gave off was something that did not belong to the world, making him feel as if his armor was going to melt on him.

' _If not in the afterlife, where can such phenomena occur?'_ Rhaegar thought, as he tried to assimilate where they were. His wife had gotten as close to him as possible, showing an expression of astonishment and fear.

“Where do you think we are Rhae? Do you remember that any of your books, or religions that you knew spoke of something like that? I had never heard, nor even imagined such a place could exist..." Lyanna expressed, as she brought her arm to her face, trying to protect her face from the heat.

Before he could answer his wife, the vibration that had suddenly appeared ceased with the same immediacy as at the moment of its appearance. Only the crackling of the fire was heard, until suddenly, what seemed like a breath of air that seemed to come directly from the entrails of the dark flames sounded. A puff of air that absorbed all the fire that rose to the sky, entering what appeared to be

' _A lad, a man? Impossible_ .' Rhaegar was beginning to believe that this was all a macabre joke from the _gods._ A punishment for his actions that plunged the _Seven Kingdoms_ into war. Lyanna was just as perplexed as he, her mouth was open and her eyes bulging.

“Are you… are you… are you seeing the same thing as me? Tell me there really isn't a boy at the base of where that column of fire that almost incinerated me was. I don't know how you have been able to resist it almost undeterred. If I did not cover my eyes with my arm, I sworn i would have been without them for sure” his wife expressed with great disbelief looking at his eyes.

Noticing how the temperature was immediately dropping and the stones and gravel were getting cold, Rhaegar decided to increase the cleft and go down to the center of the crater and see if his eyes weren't fooling them both. "I'm going to go down and check that we are not crazy, apart from dead," he said with some sarcasm and melancholy as he cleared the gap to make it passable.

“If you go down there, I'll go down too. We are dead, what can happen to us worse than that?" and thus she also began to collaborate in the task of removing the rubble. When they made it wide enough to lie down, they began to slide to the other side of the hole, Lyanna first and then he. When they were both on the other side, Rhaegar stood on the unstable surface and helped his wife to her feet, holding out his hand.

With both of them on their feet, they began to descend about six feet into the rubble and dusty slope, getting a better view of the crater now that they were directly in it. Whatever had happened there before the column of flames was, it must have been terrifying. Because where there was what was definitely a young man with a kind of metal band around his bald head, it seemed to be the center of something that transformed the place on a concave surface that would be about 10 meters in radius and between 5 or 8 meters deep. The flickering comet, like the column of fire, had disappeared.

Lyanna had approached the young man who was stiffly kneeling on the ground and with his head directed towards the sky, in the same place that before the flames had been consuming. The young man seemed to have been totally immune to flames and fire, as except for his hair and body hair that had been charred, he was or appeared to be totally unscathed. His eyes were totally white, and his skin looked like porcelain. His facial features were definitely Valyrian, and if anything was missing to ensure his ancestry, his crown, breastplate armor, and chain mail back, all made of Valyrian steel, it confirmed it.

On the breastplate was the rampant dragon of House Targaryen, which seemed to be threateningly rising outward. Each of the dragon's heads carried a precious stone. The first wore a topaz of a purity Rhaegar's had never seen before, in the center a huge blood-red ruby and finally an amethyst that seemed to have its own light. Between the armor and the chain mail he had a surcoat of treated black leather, the same color and material as the tight leggings, which resembled the scales of a dragon, where only red flashes appeared on the neck. The Valyrian steel of the breastplate, back, and chain mail was a smoky color, which appeared, according to the flashes of some of the embers, to shine or to be absolutely black. At his waist was the hilt of a sword that could not be other than _Blackfyre._ The more Rhaegar observed the features of the hairless boy kneeling stiffly and naturally on the ground, the more it was confirmed that this must be a member of house Targaryen and he seemed not to breathe.

 _'Successor? Predecessor? '_ he wondered, although it was something he couldn't answer even if life depended on him, or death in this case. A fear ran through his head, that this could be his son reaching wherever forsaken gods place he and Lyanna were, and therefore would have died.

' _But if he's my son, where did he get the conqueror's crown and his armor? How does have Blackfyre strapped on his waist? Why his eyes are rolling without being able to breath? And especially, by the old and new gods, how has he appeared in the midst of a vertical torrent of fire and emerged unscathed?  
_

If his son had lived beyond what Lyanna saw, he could not have acquired such relics of the house Targaryen with Robert ruling and in the custody of the naive and stupid Eddard Stark, something he had not wanted to tell Lyanna when he brought up the subject. No, this must be some ancestor of his, who was in the afterlife. However, before he could verbalize any thoughts, Lyanna pounced on the stranger and hugged him like he had never seen Lya hug someone, accompanied by a quiet cry.

"Rhaegar ... he's our son, he's Aegon. I would recognize your face anywhere and this boy is the exact mix between you and me ... and me ... I ... I think I saw him just before he died, standing in front of my bed, with the same clothes and armor, but with a long mane of raven black hair and black eyes with purple streaks, just like those of our Aegon"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Before Rhaegar could answer anything, the young man who according to Lya was his first male son and that he had never known, breathed deeply again, absorbing the air with his lungs, at the same time that the unnatural rigidity that he possessed left him, giving rise to a more relaxed position in his body.

Lyanna winced back at the boy's sudden reaction, who closed his eyes to open them again to reveal two black wells with streaked purple veins and some chips of silver. It were moments that it was like looking into his eyes at the reflection of the surface of a clear lake. Without a doubt, he was now convinced that this must be his son.

By focusing his vision, the young man who Rhaegar believed was his son seemed to recognize the faces before him, because his eyes widened and a kind of guttural sound left his throat.

 _“Bisa iksis daor paktot… Pōnta should sagon morghe. nyke ūndan zirȳ morghūljagon… Nyke should sagon morghe[ **[1]**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45426829?view_adult=true#_ftn1) ”_ the voice was the same as his but with a strong northern accent in his high Valyrian. Maybe he was wrong and Eddard Stark fought for his nephew, as he did during his false brother's rebellion to overthrow him.

The young man who Rhaegar thought was his son, without a doubt he knew who the two of them were, was agitated and totally confused, showing less understanding than he and Lyanna about what was going on. Lya tried to ask him something, but he beat her by interrogating _their son_ ?

"How should we be dead? How come you saw us die? How should you be dead? Are we not dead already? What are you saying?" he said in a common tongue, with a tone that tried to be warm and firm, but with some doubt and trembling in it.

Seeing that he had been understood, the boy's confusion gave way to tremors that seemed to threaten to dismantle his body. The image undoubtedly moved something inside Lyanna, because without thinking she knelt to be next to the young man, who immediately hugged her and began to sob uncontrollably

 _"Muña muña. Kostan daor pāsagon ziry. Sīkuda jēdi Senya iksis qrimbrōstan yn kirimvose syt maghagon nyke arlī ñuha muña[ **[2]**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45426829?view_adult=true#_ftn2)”_ pronounced what was undoubtedly their son, with a voice that conveyed infinite pain and sorrow, with a certain bitter aftertaste when he referred to this _Senya_ .

Because of the surprised face with which Lyanna looked at him at what he was speaking because she did not understand High Valyrian, her son detached himself from his mother's shoulder, but without ceasing to embrace her, he looked at her with an infinite tenderness mixed with a certain disbelief.

"Mother ... I am your son, although I think you already know ... you saw me when you died ... I'm sure of that" he said with a thin voice, barely audible. Before Lyanna could answer anything, her son turned his head to where he was and with a look that conveyed coldness and a certain judgment, he addressed him.

"What I'm saying is that both you, my mother and I should be dead, but we are not, Rhaegar Targaryen" he said with a tone that left no doubts of the certainty he had in what he said and with a certain bitter aftertaste to the pronounce his name.

"But aren't we !?" Lyanna asked with disbelief and surprise in her voice, the same thing Rhaegar was about to ask.

“If I think I understand something of my last twenty-two years, it is that somehow, a blood magic ritual from the past, caused my death in the crypts of _Winterfell in_ front of your tomb and my subsequent return, because if I can assure one thing is that I returned to the same place and in the same posture, where through my own hand and with the Valyrian steel dagger of the House of Targaryen, I died. " He said calmly and pausing as he tried to articulate each word, in a way that will give some coherence and meaning to the madness that his son was trying to explain.

"WHAT!!!? ARE YOU SAYING THAT THESE RUINS ARE THE CRYPTS AND REMAINS OF THE _FIRST KEEP?_ AND THAT YOUR UNCLE EDDARD WHO SWORN TO PROTECT YOUR LIFE IN MY DEATH BED, LETS YOURSELF FINISH YOUR LIFE? WHAT CRAZY THINGS ARE YOU TELLING, AEGON? " Lya yelled at her son, who suddenly felt ashamed, looking down at the ground and separating himself from the maternal embrace, to get up and put himself in an upright position. His wife imitated him and also joined, leaving Rhaegar and she in front of their son.

“What do you mean twenty-two years? If you're just a lad”Rhaegar asked, taking advantage of the moment of silence to try to bring logic to the matter.

"That's because after I died, I spent the next twenty-two years of my life death or whatever I experienced ... in the soul of the _Conqueror_ ... and regarding the crater where we are ... I have no idea what happened from my death until now. Except that the red comet that was flying in the sky is no longer there” Aegon said, looking up from the ground to the sky and then towards them, the last thing pronouncing it as if he himself were incapable of understanding it.

"Aegon, the comet was in the sky until the pillar of fire in which _you_ _were girded_ disappeared to the get into _your_ _body_ , after which you were left a few minutes rigid, eyes completely blank until you take a deep breath and screamed" Rhaegar tried to contextualize the situation for his son, but the mention of the column of fire caused his mouth to open and his eyes to shine as if he were beginning to understand his situation better

"The _Conqueror_ , as in Aegon Targaryen _the_ _Conqueror_?" Lyanna asked with a face of utter disbelief at the words that came out of their son's mouth. Aegon began to run his hand over his head, as if searching for the hair he did not have, while he looked between his father and mother. It seemed that he was trying to make sense of what he himself was going to say.

"Yes, the same ... Somehow, I cohabited within him from the day of his fifth and tenth day of the name until the day of his seventh and thirtieth day of his name ... which are also my days of name, because both he and me, were born the same day. The thirteenth of the fifth moon. And judging by your aspects and mine, except for the band, armor and sword of the _Dragon_ , we are on the same day of my name day that it all began. You had been dead for fifteen years. Fifteen years in where _my uncle Eddard Stark_ _raised_ me _and raised me as his bastard son_ , _Jon Snow. All this_ without telling me who my real parents were, _unlike the way he promised in his day he would do"_ his son said practically spitting the end, looking at her mother for understanding. But Lya had the face of wanting to murder her brother, while her bodily attitude reflected a tremendous disgust and a certain contained rage.

' _If we are really alive, and it is true that this is 297 after the conquest, I think both Lya and I are going to say a couple of things to Eddard Stark' he_ thought while he contained as best he could the anger that hearing the fate of his son, was causing him. The _King of All Westeros turned into a bastard_. If Rhaegar already had problems before hand with his brother-in-law, this one was now on a privileged list that included Tywin Lannister, Mace and Olenna Tyrell, Hoster Tully, Jon Arryn, Ser Gregor Clegane and his cousin Robert.

"How is it possible that you were present the day I died? How come nobody other than me saw you?" Lyanna asked in an increasingly agitated voice that condensed a kaleidoscope of emotions that ranged from grief and sadness to the fury of a mother wolf.

“Not only that I saw… after the blood ritual at the _Dragonstone_ cave _,_ Balerion released his flame and I suddenly felt like the night I had died. I mean, like tonight a little while ago. But instead of dying again, I felt my body again and when I opened my eyes ... I was in a clearing next to a stream, watching how the _Knight of the Laughing Tree_ faced the _Crown Prince,.._ " the surprise in the expression of Lyanna must be being replicated by the one he knew he had in him. Only Arthur, apart from the two of them, knew that his first meeting with Lyanna was like this. At the silence of both, Aegon continued telling what he had seen of the lives of both

“I watched you walk through the Harrenhal woods and I saw you get married on the _Isle of the Faces_ , where mother wore the same dress she has now. I was at the _Trident_ during the battle in which you lost your life, with her name as the last word and the armor you are now donning. After that I found myself in a Tower of Dorne before a door… behind which I found the truth about my own person that had been hidden all my life. And finally I saw the largest _Weirwood Tree_ that I have ever seen in a clearing within an immense snow-covered forest ... After that, you already know the following "

Now it was beginning to be difficult to discard the truth in what his son was saying, who was relaxing his posture and having a more serene look. It seemed that little by little he seemed to be accepting what he had experienced, thanks to being able to explain it to his parents and Rhaegar wanted to show him that he was not going to judge him for how mad what he just said sounded. Thanks to his dreams and his interest in prophecy he knew better than anyone that sometimes there are mad things that can be true, no matter how much one does not want to accept it.

“Aegon, I believe more and more in what you tell us. I am not able to follow the whole logic of why and what happened and surely the details will escape even for you, but our family and blood are famous for magic. At the time I thought i was _the Promised Prince_ of the prophecy because of the visions I had in my dreams” although Rhaegar said it with all his good intention, the mention of the _Promised Prince_ and visions caused Aegon to tense up as if he were about to face an army alone.

"No ... tell me it can't be ... tell me you didn't have visions with the _fucking Long Night"_ his son said while gave him a look almost pleading. His expression was one of despondency mixed with resignation. His shoulders tense towards his back. Despite not being as tall as he, Aegon was up to his nose, so his eyes were practically face to face. It looked like the look of an abandoned puppy

' _If with the mention of the Promised Prince and visions he becomes like that, there is no doubt that something of truth must be behind the prophecy and the long night'_ Rhaegar thought as he looked at his son and considered what to answer him. Beforeshe could, Lyanna approached her son, and looking up she fixed her gray eyes on her son's black, purple and silver.

"OH FOR GODS FUCKING SAKE YOU TOO NOT! Don't tell me that you also believe that the story to scare children is real. As your mother I demand that you tell me that it is nothing more than a made-up story ”Lya said with a desperate voice. She always had a healthy rejection of everything related to prophecies and especially those that made reference to the _Others_ because she didn't want to think waht would be to fight against them. It wasn't easy to believe in it, but Rhaegar had seen it, and it seemed his son did too.

“The motive behind Aegon's conquest was a dream of Rhaenys… where she saw the _Long Night_ … Visenya was convinced of the existence of a Valyrian blood savior and wrote the seven times cursed prophecy… which is neither more nor less than the words she intoned during the blood magic ritual through which I believe I reached the body of the _Conqueror,_ and through which I have also returned to my body ... Ritual in which Senya also prophesied your death under a hammer” told them Aegon, who seemed to be mentally putting together all the pieces that his knowledge and Rhaegar's newly contributed, had provided him.

He for his part was willing to believe in his son blindly, because after everything he had seen and lived that night,

_'Who am I to deny the existence of magic and the possibility that I am back again in the world of the living, in Winterfell, more than fifteen years after my death?'_

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45426829?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) This is not right ... they should be dead ... I saw them die ... I should be dead

[[2]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45426829?view_adult=true#_ftnref2) Mother mother ... I can't believe it ... seven times be damn Senya but thank you for giving me back my mother

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AeJon hasn't been dead for 10 minutes in total .... even though he lived 22 years in those 10 minutes !!  
> I have updated the tags, to confirm that yes, Rhaegar and Lyanna are alive. The exactly how and why will be explained in due course. Aejon already knows for example ... for things like that there will be no pov of Jon for a while xD And that's why there will never be either Littlefinger or Varys (I don't feel like autospoiling my story)  
> The Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark's son is going to Be one of the most out of the canon things that exist in this Fiction and thr why at the time it will give its benefits within a general context of the story.(Also in the canon i'm still not sure if Baby Aegon really is the son of Rhaegar and Elia. I'm sure that Young Griff is the son of Illyrio and Serra, nephew to Varys, but i never had really clear if baby aegon came from the loins of Elia)  
> The B + A theories at Harrenhal are pretty solid, and honestly, I don't see Ned as Ash's first choice ... and Brandon was very much Brandon. I would bet on a Ned as a fairy / tear scarf / brother that I never had ... that is tender inside and comforting her after the affair with Brandon. The Daynes, despite being the blood of the first men (Kings of Torrentine were in the age of heroes) Ashara is the exotic of the family for being the raven haired. All Dayne named in books other than her is pale skinned, purple eyes, and silver / blonde hair.  
> (And DAWN is a two-handed greatsword / sword, which is not the same as fighting with two swords. This was impractical if they were the same size. As for technology / technique / weaponry from my world of ice and fire I will stick with everything that you can find between the fourteenth and fifteenth century in Europe / Near East / Middle East, As well, im based on those mentalities and societies for be the one that inspired the political / military mechanics- For example. The Catholic Monarchs were first cousins, and Carlos V from Germany and I from Spain the result of several relationships uncle-niece cousin-cousin brother-stepsister ... Okay, sometimes you get a charmed Charles II ... But the Habsburgs had their that)  
> Ashara Dayne was part of Elia and Rhaegar's entourage, and these two were at dragonstone almost 9 months after the Tournament (time which took Lyanna to go north back to Winterfell, until she headed to Brandon's wedding to Catelyn) so The timing is very fair, counting on Elia not having the real Aegon a year earlier.  
> Just like I have done with the rebellion, where I have advanced everything 4 months, to advance Jon's fifteenth birthday to middle of 297. The rest will all be the same ages. Which includes the deads, who revive with the same age / aspect of the moment of their death. Lyanna is 17, Rhaegar 21/22, Jon body 15, mind 37 (the other great OOC of the Ficc, as for example, the rubies of the pyres in the Visenya ritual are a poetic license that I have allowed myself to return the "living heart" to Rhaegar, because where he had the rubies that fell in the ford of the same name /Or the case in Jon and clothes-armor-sword- Conqueror's crown/ Lyanna's wedding dress)  
> Still, as always I will try to stay as much as possible within the actual ASOIAF, AWOIAF and F&Blood Lore/ dates / events and will keep all existing mechanics in the GRRM world. Right now we have 3 revived people but at least 4 have clapped (Jon -two time, to be fair- and the "three prisoners from driftmark") plus the dragon eggs that it will be seen what happened or stopped happening with them ... Only death pays life it is the mechanics of blood magic in this universe and that is what I stick to, as I mentioned before precisely knowing this chapter.
> 
> Eddard II the next


	7. Eddard II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragon and the Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are fan of Catelyn (Or the Tully / Arryn), this is not your chapter.  
> This is possibly one of the longest chapters in the Ficc until moment. From here the story already begins to move from places and in time  
> The Great Hall of Winterfell is that of books,and the firstchapter of this ficc. A large rectangle with a dais in the background, where the Lord's family sits. With chimneys on the side and the walls covered with banners, all this described by Jon and Arya (Jon I / Arya II), but D&D forgot from the 6th Season onsward that even in the 1st chapter of their own series it they had recreated just like in the books.  
> Except for very specific exceptions, the descriptions and locations will always be those in the books.  
> The lord's Solar, I have no canon references so I will take for example the stately site of the Norman castles of the XIII, putting a photo to make it easier to imagine the situation  
> P.S;  
> Now, The first five chapters, as well as this one, are as well edited and corrected as possible with my knowledge of English.

** Thirteenth day of the Fifth moon, 297 AC, Winterfell, North of Westeros  
**

_"I have made more mistakes than you can possibly imagine, but that was not one of them"_ (About not to claim the Iron Throne for him at the end of the Rebellion) AGoT Eddard XII

* * *

The column of fire that erupted before his eyes after the tremors coming from the bowels of the earth, _pulverized_ the _First Keep_ and everything in a radius within 10 meters of it in less than the blink of an eye. Ned's first reaction after waking up from the momentary stupor in which the scene had plunged him was to try to step up, but it seemed that as if his legs were made of liquid and did not respond to him. Beside him Jory was lying, shaking pale and talking to himself, presumably muttering what sounded like a prayer to the _old gods._

 _'Of course, what I have witnessed tonight has been something that does not belong to this world'_ Ned reflected, trying to make some sense of what he had experienced in the last five minutes of his life. Even as he looked up at the terrifying glow, he found it difficult to accept what his eyes saw. It looked like a picture out of a nightmare, or a story from the _Old Nan_ , yet he was experiencing it and seeing it. Distant screams seemed to lift him out of his hypnotic trance, staring at the comet and the torrent of dark fire blazing in the black sky.

"LORD STARK! LORD STARK!" Getting to his knees as best he could, he turned his trunk and head to direct his gaze in the direction where was Vayon Poole, along with Ser Rodrik, Hall Mollen and Alyn. The four men stood under the archway to the corridor that connected the armory to the north courtyard, looking scared and shocked at what they were seeing, confirming Ned that it wasn't just him and Jory who were watching it.

 _'Up Eddard. You are a Stark. You are the Warden and Lord Protector of the North.'_ thought trying to regain his internal determination and the pose and posture that he had assumed.

 _'If a leader shows fear, so do his subordinates, generating even more danger. This is not just for me that I have to do or for the North, but to make sure my family is whole and hale'_ and with that thought, Ned was able to regain the vertical, putting himself as straight as possible, while he was trying to put a stoic mask on his facial expression again. He started walking towards where the newcomers were, seeing that Jory somehow seemed to be getting over it too.

' _Or that by seeing his Lord overcome fear, he has also been able'_ something that reassured him in his posture and determination. In the calmest and clearest voice he could summon, he began to order what should be done to alleviate the situation.

"Poole, go and get Maester Luwin and bring him here, _immediately_ " Ned said to his steward, with a voice that almost resembled his usual _Great Lord_ voice, as he gave Poole a glance to let him know that he better come back with the maester as soon as possible.

"Ser Rodrik, go with my family to the Great Hall and protect them, although this seems a _natural phenomenon_ , we cannot rule out that it could be a distraction to attack the heart of the North or the Stark house" he almost choked when saying what he had decided that it had to be what was happening before his eyes. Ser Rodrik looked at him with a face that expressed doubt about the veracity of these conclusions, but preferred to nod and head towards where he had been ordered without speaking.

"Jory, Hall, Alyn. Evacuate the entire northern part of the castle and look for the wounded or deceased among the servants or guards. After that I want you to look for me in the Great Hall, to inform me of everything. And I want you to meet the guards at the north gate to question them about what they saw before this happened, is that clear?" Eddard told them in a voice that did not admit doubts about the orders received.

"Milord" the three men nodded, heading toward the guard barracks, the armory, and the east gate.

Eddard continued alone and undisturbed under the arch that led to the north courtyard, waiting for the maester to offer him a logical and coherent solution to what his eyes saw when he looked beyond where he was.

When it was about five minutes of waiting, he suddenly began to feel a vibration that affected the entire castle, dislodging some loose bricks and stones from their original position, although it was not at all like the tremors that preceded the destruction of the _First Keep_. Feeling footsteps behind him and the clink of a chain, he turned around to find Vayon Poole with a Maester Luwin who looked shocked and misunderstood at the events of that night in Winterfell.

"Maester Luwin ..." Ned began, but before he could finish articulating the sentence he intended, it sounded as if something sucked in all the air present in the castle, forming a whirlpool around the column of fire, which suddenly vanished as suden as it appeared. In turn, the red comet had disappeared, leaving everything in darkness except for the embers between the remains of the ancient fortress and the various lamps of the Castle. The maester's face showed that he had practically the same idea as Ned of what was happening. His steward looked like he had seen the _Others,_ his mouth open and his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

"Master, do you have an explanation for what we just saw?" he asked directly trying to get a clear answer about what had just happened in the last fifteen minutes of his life.

"My Lord ... I do not know for sure, but I think I have a theory" said in a hesitant voice and without much conviction the old maester who had brought his five children into the world. Nodding his head, Ned's urged him to continue.

“You see, my Lord, it has never been confirmed, but it has always been rumored in the _Citadel_ that Winterfell is built on top of one of the _Flames of the World_ , hence it possesses the hot springs and hot pools. It was also the rumor behind the castle's heating system ..."

“Are you saying that I just saw one of the _Flames of the World go_ into activity after practically an eternity with almost no sign of existing? And the _Red Star?"_ Ned was not convinced at all by his Master's explanation, but he could not deny that it was more logical than the option he thought he had.

“My Lord, the comet is a phenomenon from the sky, which, although unusual, has been recorded sometime in the past. The only difference from this one is the color, but nothing else. They are not interrelated things my Lord. But if you want, I can send a raven to the _Citadel_ to shed more light on what happened tonight” said this time the maester with more confidence and shrugging.

' _Magic does not exist. At this rate I'm going to look like Bran believing in the stories of the Old Nan '_ Eddard was trying to convince himself internally.

"Good Luwin, send a raven describing the tremors and the column of fire, to see if they can find an explanation with more support than rumors" he pronounced coldly, looking at him with some reproach for not being able to offer more than an explanation, that although not discounted, it was based on gossip rather than precise knowledge.

"My Lord, I will send our faster raven" Luwin revered and marched towards the aviary to carry out his mission.

“Poole, begin a structural damage inspection of the castle. I want tomorrow evening a list with all the necessary repairs after what happened tonight, including the state of the north curtain wall"

"My Lord"

Before retiring to check on his family's condition, Ned considered approaching the rim of the newly formed crater, but this two-meter-high mountain of rubble seemed to be red hot, so he headed towards the Great Hall.

* * *

  


When Eddard reached his destination, Catelyn was with the family, except for Jon, who didn't seem to be anywhere. Ser Rodrik stood at the door, watching the surroundings. In it were his children in different emotional and excited states, like his _Direwolfs._ Bran was sitting by the side fireplace, holding his still nameless wolf with silver-gray fur and yellow eyes. His face was uneasy and doubtful, but he didn't look at all scared. Rickon was crying and clinging on the skirts of his mother who was sitting in her place of honor at the family table, while her dark wolf _Shaggydog_ frantically circled around the dais.

Sitting on one of the side benches, Sansa had an expression of having seen the _Stranger himself_ and was hugging Robb as if her life depended on it. At her feet _Lady_ was replicating her mistress, as she was huddled over _Greywind,_ Robb's wolf. His eldest had bruises on his cheekbone from the sparring that morning with Jon, but his face reflected more incomprehension and some amazement, than fear. For her part, Arya was fascinated by the events that had happened and kept asking Robb if he knew more details about what had happened. When she noticed that he had entered the Great Hall, she shot out in search of him, her wolf _Nymeria_ running excitedly behind her.

"Father! You've seen?! It has been wonderful, incredible!" her daughter told him with emotion and excitement in her voice. His body was a real ball of energy that seemed unable to stay still. Her gray eyes, which reminded him so much of his sister's, wide with fascination and enthusiasm.

' _May I be able to prevent her from losing that look'_ he said to himself, trying to swear that he would do everything possible in his power to shield his little Arya from the evils of the world. Although a parent shouldn't have a favorite, Arya was his weakness. Ned didn't know if it was because of the physical or personality resemblance to his late sister, but he was unable to deny his youngest daughter anything. Crouching down to be level with her face, he put his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to restrain her euphoria as Ned answered her.

“Yes Arya, I have seen it all. I was right in the north courtyard when it happened. I don't think it was wonderful, but it certainly was something incredible and never seen before” kissing her lightly on the forehead, trying to sound warm, although he could barely recover from the panic that had blocked him at that moment.

"Father, are you okay?" Sansa asked with concern, had approached him, like Robb, who was looking at him as if he had the same question on the tip of his tongue. Without getting up from his position in front of Arya, giving them a warm and loving look, Ned tried to convey that everything was and was going to be fine.

“Yes, I am healthy and whole.The tremors made me fall, hence i'm stained with dirt, but apart from that I have been able to watch the _spectacle_ from close up. And now at least we already have an excuse to spend on the reconstruction of the _First Keep_ , maybe it is a project in which you can help me, Robb" Ned replied with the most affectionate and relaxed voice that he was capable of intoning, while minimizing the importance to what happened.

' _The crypts are possibly in the same state as the surface. Not only has the oldest building in the North disappeared, part of the Stark_ _history has disappeared'_ leaving him in his throat with a bitter aftertaste.

' _I will be remembered as Eddard Stark the one who lost all the Stark heritage'_ thinking that except for Arya, none of his children felt the north was truly theirs. Robb's best friend is an _Ironborn_ and hardly knows the heirs of the lords of the north. Sansa lives in a world of light and color, of stories of gallant knights and glorious jousts, created between her mother and her Septa. Bran wanted to be a southern Knigth and Rickon, Rickon was not yet aware of his surroundings. To ingratiate himself with his wife, he built a Sept that had been seen as a offense against the cultural roots of the North by many of his vassals, all except the Manderlys, followers of the old gods. While his children, at the insistence of his wife, had been educated in _The Seven and The Old Gods_ , in order to improve their southern _prospects_ _._ To add salt to the injury, his nephew, _a Targaryen,_ was the one with Arya who looked the most Stark. At least for his dark hair and long features. The rest of his children had all, round faces and typical Tully hair and eyes.

' _And now the remains of the Ancient Winter Kings have even evaporated'_ trying to change his mind, he let out a sigh and stood up again, seeing that Jory Cassel was coming with Andrew one of the guards from the north gate.

“My lord, we do not have to regret any incident greater than minor bumps and bruises caused by objects and stones dropped during the tremors. However, we still can't access the area where it _was_ the _First Keep_ , so we can not know if there was anyone inside for sure. Although we believe that maybe there was a person inside at the time that _blow_ into the air” the captain of his guard told him with a look that made him begin to doubt that everything was going to be okay. The eyes of Jory darting between him and his children, and seemed like Jory was trying to say something without actually meaning to say it.

"What person?" he asked with a certain nervousness and dread that was beginning to crowd the bottom of his stomach. There was a member of his family that he hadn't seen or knew of since noon, and he was beginning to fear that the person they were referring to, was him. Before Jory could answer, Andrew beat him to it. With an expression as between guilty and dejected, the north gate guard began in a trembling tone that showed some fear before his lord

"Wll you see, my lord ... he usually goes every evening to the old hall of the _First Keep_ , and today has not been the exception ... He is your son, Jon" he finished saying with a dejection that showed that he had appreciation and affection for the boy.

 _'He's like that, if you give him the trust and loyalty to open up to you, it's impossible not to have affection for him ... but because of me ... Jon, i'm finding out now, __has a habit of going to the First Keep to be alone in the shadows, outside view of the world'_ Ned was not going to accept that he had failed his sister. Most likely, Jon would have left the _First Keep_ long before and was in his rooms in the servants' wing.

' _Yes, that must be it. Catelyn will not have deigned to summon him as part of the family, much less after Jon's actions today. When Alyn or Hall returns I will see that everything has been another scare in a night of scares' Ned_ wanted to reaffirm himself inside. However, the possibility that Jon might have died had fallen over the Great Hall like a black cloud charged with negativity.

Ned's reaction to what Andrew had told him strained his entire body, because otherwise he could no longer stand. Arya had given a one hundred and eigthy degree turn in her emotions and now she was crying uncontrollably in Robb's arms, while she glared at her mother ... The fact that Jon's _Direwolf_ was absent only increased the fears that his youngest daughter was right about her suspicions.

 _'Promise me Ned, promise me'_ Much to his dismay, Ned didn't know if he had failed his sister that night.

He was going to turn to his wife to ask if she knew of Jon's whereabouts, when ran and slammed the door into the Great Hall, a Hall Mollen out of breath and who seemed to have seen a ghost. The surprise caused by the sudden irruption of the guard caused the Cassels and Andrew to draw their swords thinking that it was a dangerous situation, meanwhile Sansa, like his wife, let out small gasps.

Without catching his breath, Hall began to speak with such speed that no one was able to understand him.

"Hall! Easy, breathe. Calm down first and then tell us about it” he tried to calm his guard who seemed unable to stop shaking, although inside Ned was made of a sea of doubts and it was the opposite extreme of calm

' _What else can happen tonight? Jon may be dead, a fifth of the castle has been blown up in front of my eyes, the crypts have evaporated and I don't even have a half-coherent explanation of anything that happened '_ thought as he looked at his guard and with his right hand he ordered his men to lower their swords.

"My lord ... I don't know ... how to explain it ... it is your _bas ... son_ my lord" the voice was just a trembling thread, the agitation remained although now he breathed more calmly. The face of Hall was pale, his eyes were absent, and sweat beaded his forehead.

' _By the seven hells, what happened to him? Has died? Is he disfigured? '_ something bad must be, because the face of horror, did not leave Hall.

Before Ned could ask him more about it, Jon's white wolf appeared at the door, with those fathomless red eyes, his tongue loling out and playful tail behind him, joining in with his littermates. " _Snow, are you okay_ ?" In the distance, he heard the voice of Vayon Poole ask with some nervousness to Jon, who was still out of his sight. Eddard Steward's voice really had a mixture of awe and dread.

When his nephew got through the great door, the sigh of those present upon seeing him was widespread. Under a layer of poorly shaken ash and dust, with hardly a hair on his body, someone who looked like Jon appeared, but was not quite him. This hairless stranger, who resembled his nephew, wore a steel band ' _Valyrian steel?'_ with square red gemstones around the hairless head. He wore the most extraordinary armor Eddard had ever seen, and a long black silk cape at his back, from which from above the right shoulder protruded a black sword hilt topped by ' _A BLODDY RED RUBY?'_. He was wearing all black except for flashes of red on his cape and on the collar of his surcoat. The armor, consisting of chainmail, breastplate, and back was made of Valyrian steel like Ned's eyes had never seen, varying in color according to the reflections of the candlelight, ranging from dazzling polish to smoky black. Sparkling blue, red and purple jewels stood out on the _house's rampant dragon carving 'TARGARYEN?'_

 _'By the Old Gods, I've gone mad as Aerys. That, or that all this night is a dream, or a nightmare or magic, and soon I will wake up'_ Eddard thought to his insides, while he was unable to close his mouth when he contemplated the young man who looked like his nephew, but what it was impossible that it was. His upright, straight posture exuded power, confidence, and command.

_'Anyone could mistake his bearing and image for that of a King? A God? No, the boy who has been in my charge all his life definitely couldn't be mistaken for a king or a God. This can't be Jon.'_

Behind the young man who seemed out of legends, two figures appeared with their hair and faces covered in ash and dust, but the armor of one of them Ned would recognize it all his life. With brilliant red rubies that should be in the depths of the _Trident_ , forming the three heads of the Targaryen dragon that seemed to emerge from the chest of the mysterious man, of whom Ned had certain suspicions who could be.

' _But it doesn't make sense. Is dead! I myself buried him in the grave along with Lyanna and the trunk with the three dragon eggs, the marriage cloak and all the marriage certificates of Rhaegar and Lyanna'_ Ned tried to find an explanation for what his eyes were seeing, but the more he tried, he was unable to understand it.

Now he understood Hall's condition. _'There really are ghosts in the crypts of Winterfell tonight'_ he laughed internally for not running away, when he could appreciate the third person in detail.

" _Lya_ ..." He whispered reverently, rather than practically said. His eyes were about to bulge and his jaw ached from the openness of his mouth. His children, who were still near the side bench, all had faces of disbelief and incomprehension. Ser Rodrik was about to pass out and Jory didn't know whether to help her uncle or help Hall who was white as parchment, with eyes lost between Rhaegar and Lyanna.

But at that moment Catelyn's voice brought them all out of the trance in which they were contemplating the three people who had just entered, to return to the sight of whom undoubtedly seemed his nephew, now exposed to the light of the side fireplace of the _Great Hall._ From Cat's position on the family dais, with Rickon on top of her she couldn't recognize other than what she could think of was Jon.

“S _now,_ can you tell where did you got those clothes, that armor and that sword? You haven't been stealing from the dead of your father's family, have you?" his wife pronounced in an accusatory and totally hostile tone.

' _Oh no! In the face of Lyanna no!'_ Ned turned to reprimand his wife for the acid comment she had made about her nephew, but this one beat him out of hand.

For the first time in his life, Ned feared Jon's possible reaction. The body of his nephew tensed and began to radiate a barely contained fury. Turning abruptly to face Cat and without anyone being able to see the movement, he put his right hand over his shoulder and drew the most wonderful bastard sword Ned had ever seen. The black dragonbone hilt was topped by a huge rhomboid blood red ruby, _'no…How??... that sword… that sword is…'_

"BLACKFYRE!" Arya squealed in a high-pitched and excited voice.

"Black ... fyre ...?" Robb spoke in a broken and almost mystical way. Sansa had a face of not understanding anything and Rickon even less. Eddard could see how Bran didn't know whether to look at his cousin or his _uncle?_ Because obviously his wife's interruption cut off any option to start a civilized conversation that explained the seven times damned situation that was happening that night in his castle.

Fortunately, the voices of his cousins semeed to relax Jon somewhat, as he lowered his sword, but kept it in his right hand. Turning the head towards where Robb and Arya were, Jon made an affirmative gesture and smiled at them, with a smirk that he had never seen in the boy ' _Boy no, whatever happened to him tonight, the one before me is a man'_ thought Ned trying to understand something, however little, of the situation he was living.

After that, Ned's nephew closed his withering and sparkling gaze fixedly on his wife to the point of causing her to tremble, while Jon advanced slowly until he was face to face with her. Being at sword distance, with the exception of Andrew who remained impassive, Jory, Hall, and even Ser Rodrik regained some composure and made the feint of going towards him. But before they began to move, Jon turned and turned his back on Catelyn, whose face looked as if she had seen a _Dragon_.

Jon raised _Blackfyre_ to the ceiling, _standing to_ his full height that cast a huge shadow behind him. With a hypnotic and sparkling look that further marked the purple streaks of his eyes, he spoke a few words in a firm and harsh tone, which left everyone present even more puzzled.

_“Brōzio ñuha iksis daor Ionos Sōnaro, ñuha brōzi ziry iksos Aegon Targārien, ānogar hen uēpa Valyria, tresy hen pāletilla dārilaros Rhāegār Targārien se dārilaros Līāna Targārien. Se tresy hen suvion, se tresy hen perzys, Kivio Dārilaros se zaldrīzes sigligon, se dārys isse se sȳndor. Drēje dārilaros naejot se Dēmalion Āegenko, drēje dārys hen andals, se rhoynars se Ēlie Vali. Āeksio hen sīkuda Dārȳti, āeksio hen Valyrīha dāez ōregon se mīsio hen valii[](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45593500?view_adult=true#_ftn1)"_

The Sound of someone clearing their voice behind him caught Ned's attention, who turned to see how undoubtedly Rhaegar Targaryen was going to speak, catching the attention of twelve of the fourteen people in the Great Hall. He noticed that his nephew was looking out for someone else. Lowering his sword, Jon turned again to fix a glacial, fierce gaze on Catelyn, who seemed not to know where to go.

“What _MY SON_ has said is that _HIS NAME IS NOT JON SNOW. HIS NAME IS AEGON TARGARYEN, FROM THE BLOOD OF OLD VALYRIA. SON OF PRINCE HEIR RHAEGAR TARGARYEN AND PRINCESS LYANNA TARGARYEN. THE SON OF FIRE. THE SON OF ICE. THE PRINCE WHO WAS PROMISED. THE DRAGON REBORN AND KING IN THE SHADOWS. THE LEGITIMATE HEIR TO THE IRON THRONE, THE LEGITIMATE KING OF THE ANDALS, THE RHOYNAR AND THE FIRST MEN. LORD OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS, LORD OF VALYRIA AND PROTECTOR OF MEN"_ resounded in the Great Hall of Winterfell, like more than sixteen years ago one night during the Tournament of Harrenhal, that melodious, deep and penetrating voice of someone who should not be there nor alive. Of a ghost from the past, who was present here, with Ned's sister holding his hand, while he revealed to the world his greatest secret for fifteen years kept, even from his own family and the person who was the secret itselt.

* * *

The shock, surprised faces and eyes that came out like plates of all those present except for three, was broken by her sister Lyanna, with an eloquent look and voice that did not admit arguments.

"Ned, the family to your solar, now!" after which Lya stormed in direction to the same place where she had summoned him, practically dragging her husband by the arm.

' _Jo…Aegon, his name is Aegon. It's going to be hard for me to get used to calling him that_ ' gestured to Andrew, who approached him to receive some kind of inaudible instruction from where Eddard stood, and after nodding his head, the guard left the Great Hall. Following that, his nephew left in the direction that his _real_ father and mother had left the compound, trailed by his albino wolf.

The faces of Ser Rodrik, Jory and Hall were an authentic poem, so Ned decided to take advantage of the confusion of his men, and with his most intimidating gaze, he approached their position.

“The three of you have to swear that nothing you have seen or heard will come out of your mouth, I'll talk to Poole later. Jory and Hall, if it's all safe, get all the people back to their rooms and the guards to their normal rounds. Ser Rodrik, you go to the door of my solar and do not let anyone in or out except the members of my _entire_ family, _is that clear_ ?" he told them in a sharp and somewhat threatening voice. A chorus I swear, came out of the three men, who were dismissed from the great hall, going where he had ordered them.

' _Now to deal with my family. This is going to be more complicated than with servitude'_ noticed when he saw the expressions of his children and wife. The latter was absolutely decomposed, having lost all its color and having a feverish look. ' _It seems she has recognized my sister and Rhaegar.'_

"Let's go to my solar and try to understand what happened tonight with your brother" Ned told his children, because he hoped that Jon would continue to be like a brother to them even though they were not of the same blood. ' _And if his self-title comes true, they better be on good terms with the future King of Westeros_. _'_ His children didn't seem to want to move, continuing to look at him questioningly, so Ned tried to persuade them to obey.

"The sooner we are there, the sooner I can clear all your doubts" he intoned with a suggestive voice and with a certain invocation to obey, something that happened to his fortune, Arya being the first to leave almost running, followed by the rest of her brothers and sister and his wolves. After that, Eddard shot a cold and severe look at Cat wich did not accept possible discussion, so that she followed him and his children to his solar. Although Cat seemed to want to say something, she recovered her attitude as best she could, rising abruptly from the dais and following him to his solar.

When they reached the door of the Lord's stays there was Ser Rodrik, on one side of the door as he had ordered and, to his surprise, Andrew on the other. However, Eddard quickly realized that it must be by order of Jon that he was there. ' _Four loyal eyes, see better than two'_. Seeing him, Ser Rodrik, opened the door for him with an inquiring and searching gaze. Ignoring the look, Eddard entered to find his nephew, sister and brother-in-law seated in three of the six chairs that were in the stay, not counting his, placed on the right side of the room, in front of the fireplace. Apparently Andrew had also brought a couple of cauldrons of water and a potty, where the three Targaryens wiped their faces and hands. Despite this, although the silver sparkles were beginning to appear, Rhaegar's hair was still almost dark with ash and his sister was not much better, making her very long, dark hair appear gray.

Seeing Jon hairless next to his father, the similarities between the two were undeniable. Although the _crown prince_ had the finest and rounder features, they had practically the same face. Both had a slender but wiry build, the father towering his son about 10 centimeters in height. Both with the same indecipherable eyes, which did not show a single hint of what was going through their owners' heads. Her sister's eyes instead ...

' _May the gods have mercy on me for the fury of those eyes'_ that had settled on him from the moment he entered the solar, keeping fixed on him as he went to his chair behind the desk. It was still full of the scrolls and parchments that he had been reading that night, before his wife's interruption.

The stay hadn't changed much since he assumed the title of Lord of Winterfell, as it never really felt like it belonged to him. It still felt like his father's energy was in the place, and therefore it didn't feel right to change anything about it. The Ironwood's large desk sat under the window, and now he could gaze from his vantage point at the faces of his entire family. Including some who did not yet know how they got there.

At the back of the solar were the wolf pups, and at his right hand were his wife and their five children, Bran, Rickon and Arya sitting on the floor next to the chair where Sansa was, then Robb and finally Catelyn, who from the moment sat in front of her, became the target of the daggers that Lyanna threw with her gaze.

 _'This may end worse than the Dance' N_ ed began to fear to himself. He tried to sit in a position that conveyed some control over the situation, but was unable to stop fidgeting with his hands over his face and hair. Every time he looked up from the desk, his eyes flew to his sister, who was still focused on Cat. The tension could not be cut even with the sword that Jon _'Aegon, his name is Aegon ... Although for me it will always be Jon, in honor of my adoptive father who installed all my values and my honor'_ continued to have drawn, leaning over it, while he breathed deeply, with a half smile on his face that did not quite reach his eyes. His children looked at the three people in front of them in total disbelief, except for Arya and Bran who had faces of fascination.

' _Well, I think I'm going to have to be the one to talk about the elephant in the room….'_ But her sister seemed to have decided to be the one to start the conversation

" _HOW COULD YOU_ ??? !!!! On my deathbed you promised to protect him! _For the fuckings old and new gods_ _Ned_ , you have made the King of _Westeros,_ a bastard who is abused by your wife and servitude! You swore to me, with him in your arms, that you would put him on _the Iron Throne_ , the only place where he would be safe! _THROUGH TONIGHT Aegon did not know who his parents were_!" his sister began to reproach him in a tone unrecognizable to Ned for the anger, rage and disgust that transmitted. Her last words almost caused Lyanna to rise from her chair, but Rhaegar grabbed her hand, and kept her seated.

“ _Iron Throne? King of Westeros? ..._ What are these two people talking about father, why does this woman say what she says and in reference to who she says it, and why that man who is undoubtedly a _Targaryen,_ has convinced Jon that him is his father and his name is _Aegon Targaryen?_ Jon, what happened to your hair? Where did you get that armor, that crown, and _Blackfyre_ ? He gave it to you in exchange for… " Robb said in a suspicious and offensive voice.

Jon seemed that he was not going to allow any more questions and leaning on his sword he got up from his chair, placing himself in the center of the stay. His position was fully upright, as he had never seen. Shoulders back, his right arm resting on the sword and his left close to his body. He began to probe the site, minimally laying his eyes on him, with a mixture of sadness, disgust and pity ' _That look has already hurt me more than anything can come out tonight'_

 _"_ Robb, these two people are my parents. Rhaegar Targaryen and my mother" Began his nephew, now addressing to all his cousins "your aunt, Lyanna Targaryen-Stark, _prince_ and _princess_ of _Westeros_. I really am not your half brother, but I am your cousin… ” but Aegon could not continue with his explanation, as his wife interrupted him.

" _A bastard with dragon blood, a_ potential _Daemon_ " Cat didn't even wonder why Lyanna and Rhaegar were in front of her, after they had been dead for fifteen years. No. Catelyn had to keep talking without knowing anything and in the most offensive way possible. _'By the gods, even without being my bastard son he hates him with all of her soul.'_

Lyanna was about to take the _dagger?_ that she had on her waist, but Rhaegar stopped her at the last moment. Seeing how the tensions did not stop increasing, he turned to his wife with a reproachful look.

“Cat…” he wanted to intervene to explain the situation, but his brother-in-law was ahead of him, closing his gaze on Ned's wife, having an effect similar to that of Jon's in the Great Hall before. Catelyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to maintain a position worthy of a great lady, when Rhaegar began to talk in his harmonic voice, but hard and laced with irritation.

"Lady Tully, I am glad you are here, as the entire Rebellion began on your father's land ... I am sure you remember when I passed through Riverrun with my two Kingsguards, an escort of twenty men and _my wife,_ just before your wedding to my brother-in-law, Brandon. On that visit I do remember correctly, although you were not present in the discussions in your father's solar, you were at the informal feast that was offered in my honor and _my wife's_ , Is that so? " Despite being a ghost, because thanks to Catelyn he still did not quite understand what his sister and brother-in-law were doing here, the latter continued to command a respect to which few men or women would not succumb. And his wife for more than fifteen years was like Ned had never seen her in his life. It seemed as if all of hers life had suddenly been sucked out of her. Her eyes went deep and began to swing frantically between him and Rhaegar.

 _'What the hells happened at Riverrun? Did Catelyn know about Rhaegar and Lyanna?'_ He wondered as he watched his wife nod slightly at the _Crown Prince's_ question.

' _Or should it be King_ ? _I don't understand anything about this situation. This must all be a nightmare and sooner or later I'll wake up. It has to be. Nothing makes sense' Ned_ wanted to convince himself while his brother-in-law continued with something that he seemed to have saved for a long time. Turning to him now, Rhaegar shot him a withering, questioning look.

“Tell me, _Lord Stark_. Did your father or maester receive a lengthy letter written by my handwriting and coming from Riverrun, explaining that I had discovered them in their conspiracy to overthrow the Targaryen house and that only my love for Lya prevented me from acting with all the severity that the laws permited me? " When Rhaegar finished speaking, Eddard's jaw was practically touching his desk.

" _Letter ... what letter? ... what conspiracy ...?"_ he said in a thin, shaky voice. Lyanna gave a deep sigh and made a gesture to Rhaegar that was like _I told you_ , after which the fury in her brother-in-law's eyes gave way to _condescension?_

“Brother-in-law, I am very afraid, that you too were lied and used as one more piece on the game board that was _Westeros_ for your father Lord Rickard Stark, your adoptive father Lord Jon Arryn and your father-in-law, Lord Hoster Tully. All of them with the total connivance of Tywin Lannister and _your clos_ e friend, the _Usurper, my cousin_ Robert. Me wedding to Lyanna upset all their plans, that's why my Riverrun's letter never came out, and if it did it was totally ignored by Lord Rickard…” Ned couldn't believe what Rhaegar was saying, although Cat's reaction indicated that it was true that the prince visited her home and she had some idea of what had happened.

"I refuse to think that my father, vilely murdered by yours, was so dishonorable not only to conspire to overthrow his sworn king, but also to use his daughter as the spark to start a war ..." he said with all the security he could have in those moments, which was practically nil.

“ _Dearest Ned_ , I also don't think Father was _so_ icy- hearted to use my love for Rhaegar as a cause to start a war. Also, by marrying him, I renounced all my titles. That is why I gave _your wife's_ sister, Lady Lysa Tully, a scroll written in my own handwriting. It was certified by the Riverrun maester, and in it I renounced my last name Stark to save the house from the _disgrace_ of breaking the engagement with _your fucking friend. She_ had to give it to Brandon before the wedding ... but the fact was that _instead of marrying_ Lady Catelyn, he _ended up in Kings Landing_ demanding the head of my husband and father of my son, his nephew. In that letter, in addition to everything, communicated that he was going to be the father of a child with Ashara Dayne. Do you know who that child was? YOU KNOW???!!" Lyanna had risen from her chair, to face his desk, gripping the edge of it until her knuckles were white from the force she was exerting. Her typically pale skin was purplish. Her eyes held infinite disappointment, guilt, anger and grief. The voice in which she spoke, a veritable whirlwind of emotions.

“LYA, I HAD NO IDEA OF ANYTHING ABOUT THIS! I SWEAR ON THE OLD GODS LYANNA! I AM UNABLE TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING OF WHAT IS HAPPENING, OR WHAT HAPPENED FIFTEEN YEARS AGO! BY THE SEVEN HELLS, YOU AND YOUR HUSBAND SHOULD BE DEAD, BURIED UNDER YOUR STATUE IN THE CRYPTS, BUT YOU ARE IN MY FUCKING SOLAR !!!!! " he said with a primal cry, dropping his two fist-clenched hands on the desk, blowing up all the scrolls, papers and objects that were on it. Eddard had reached its boiling point. He couldn't take it anymore. His sister, back from the dead, was accusing him of things that he had no idea about, and Ned did not think he would take it anymore. He would put up with every insult and derision, well earned, in relation to Jon, but he wasn't going to be the scapegoat of what happened fifteen years ago.

Robb and Sansa were livid from the screams and violence of the conversation, Arya looked at her aunt with fascination, Bran began to have some concern in his eyes and Rickon didn't understand anything. The pups were practically frantic. At that moment, his nephew Jon, cleared his throat and approached Lya.

"Mom, take it easy," he said, resting his left hand on Lyanna's right shoulder. "We should first explain the situation of how we got here and how I know who I am" after what, his nephew turned and gave Catelyn a fierce look again" If Lady Tully allows us, of course "

Catelyn, who was holding Robb's hand so tightly that it looked like she was going to break it, nodded in a lost way. ' _At last I will know what the hells have happened and why they are here' Ned_ thought as he let out a deep breath of relief. Jon noticed this and nodded as if asking permission to continue with his explanation, to which he nodded with his eyes rather than his head. His body was beginning to feel numb. He had not slept for almost a whole day and each moment of this day was being a worse situation than the last.

"How I was saying" Jon began with an authoritative voice, returning to the center of the solar, adopting the same posture as before. It seemed an acquired tic, ' _But since when does Jon have the tic of leaning on a sword when he goes to speak?'_ he tought, while his nephew began to explain the story behind that day "After an incident this afternoon with Lady Tully, I went to train alone at the _First Keep ..."_

"That's why you're so good all of sudden!" Robb exclaimed, but his cousin's gaze let him know that Jon wasn't going to admit any more interruptions, to the surprise and some pent-up irritation of Ned's firstborn.

“After spending I don't know how long training, seeing that it was not yet time for dinner, I decided to rest for a while, but when I fell asleep I had a dream, which I could only describe as _magical and foreboding_. When I woke up and saw that the red comet was lighting the sky, I thought it was a sign to pay attention to my dream ... ”and his nephew gave a deep sigh, after which he continued with trembling voice "That's why I went to the crypts" now Eddard understood why a lamp was missing in the crypts before the eruption of the torrent of fire

 _'But if he was in the crypts, how is it that he is whole here and not evaporated?'_ Seeing that what was explained still did not really say anything to at least seven of the ten present, Jon continued

"In the crypts, when I reached the height of my mother's grave ..."

* * *

"So you're telling us that _The Long Night is coming back?"_ Eddard asked his nephew in a tired voice, incredulous and more strident than he intended.

It was beginning to dawn when Aegon was finishing his incredible, yet credible story. ' _It is plausible because there is no other explanation than black blood magic to understand how it is that not only my sister and my brother-in-law, but also my nephew have returned from death'_

"I'm not sure if it will be now, but basically the ritual was precisely to ensure Aegon's presence when it came ... what happens is that the Aegon who is here is me and not _the Dragon_ and I have no _Dragons_ or _sisters_ to Help me…”he lost his gaze for a moment, with a dejected gesture on his body, but that changed for one of greater decision

"I just know that I have to go to the north of the _Wall_ to find more answers ..." Jon said in a resigned voice, who now preferred to be called Aegon for having lived longer under that name than with Jon's and because in the end, was his name. His nephew had removed his armor and crown, leaving only the leather ride breeches and an extraordinary black silk camisole behind which was sometimes seen, a scar about 6 centimeters wide between the sternum and the ribs. It seemed to have been scorched from within, leaving the mark of a red-hot burn that throbbed in time with Aegon's heart. Both he, and his sister Lyanna, as Rhaegar and Robb had noticed the scar, but also had avoided even staring for more than a blink or asking again for when Jon, _unable to control his body, killed himself_.

 _'Why do I feel guilty that he had died? If is it how he says, even if I had been with him, I could not have done anything to prevent his death ... or could I? ... I feel like he has omitted many things when recounting his story ...'_ Eddard thought as he stroked Rickon's hair that long ago had fallen asleep on top of him, resting the head on his shoulder.

"Hey! I am your sister. I don't care if you have Dragon blood. That makes you even more amazing Jon !! You have lived with Visenya and flown on the _Black Dread!_ _By the seven hells, you have Blackfyre !!!_ Why would I stop wanting to be your sister now, when I wanted to be before that you just liked being in the shadows frowning and brooding for everything, huh?" interrupted Arya, who had all night the excitement of being living her fantasy come true, as she approached to hug, whom she undoubtedly considered her brother ' _Although I hope they are not in the Targaryen way'_ feared for her inwardly, while casting a look of disapproval at his daughter for the language used.

Aegon's father, Ned's brother-in-law Rhaegar, had also shed the armor he had worn for last time on the _Trident,_ and was wearing a combination of Ned's old pants and a long shirt of Robb. It was at least curious to see the _Last Dragon_ dressed with Stark sigils on his chest and in northern clothes. All of Rhaegar's clothes had been brought in by his sister aided by Andrew, who Aegon had made into some kind of Kingsguard.

Shortly after his nephew's explanation began, his sister had brought all the valuables of her husband and son to her old room in the family wing, which Eddard had taken care of keeping unscathed as if time had not passed for it. Lyanna came back after a long time, wearing riding breeches and a long gray shirt from when she was still living in Winterfell. Since she apparently already knew the story of her son, she did not mind being away for a while, something that Lya took the opportunity to wash herself. Ned's heart sank when she returned and re-entered the castle lord's solar. Lyanna was still the same as the last time he had seen her fifteen years ago in that seven damned tower of Dorne, but now with all the life that was leaving her that time. It was unbelievable.

The only thing his wife Catelyn thought about the supernatural experience experienced by everyone that night was that everything that happened was an abomination product of witchcraft and an offense to the _seven_. That the Targaryens were sinners and they would all end up in the _seven hells_ for witnessing that. After that rant, she asked to retire to her rooms, to which Eddard had to refuse, claiming that it was an occasion for the whole family to be together, that no matter how or why, now had two more members. She did not make a sound again, or make a gesture. She just stayed dejected in her chair, looking away and panicky ' _I don't trust what can she do. We have not finished talking about the events of the Rebellion yet.'_

As if reading his mind, Aegon turned to him with a sparkling but impassive gaze. "Lord Stark, considering that in one way or another, what happened fifteen years ago is going to affect us in the present, I need to know everything that you, as well as Lady Catelyn, and as Rhaegar and my mother know" said in clear and imperative way his nephew.

One thing Ned has noted is that in all the time since Jon had revealed who he was, he had never referred to Rhaegar as father ' _But he does call Lya mother, even mom to calm her down when we were arguing'_

"It's very late and no one has slept, don't you think it would be best to leave it for after resting?" Robb asked, keeping his eyes open as best he could, though unlike Bran, hadn't yawned once. Sansa now seemed to see Jon as if he were one of the knights of her legends, the same as Rhaegar, and Arya, she could be the most awake person on the solar, except for the two Targaryens and Ned's sister. ' _Decree or no decree, second wife or not, eluded commitment to Robert ... I don't care about that. Lyanna was, is and will be a Stark and my sister._ _'_

Watching Robb during the explanation of Aegon, Ned could saw that his son hadn't finished taking in any of the situation. The one who was his half-brother the day before, was really his cousin and a Targaryen. His uncle, who Robb didn't even know that he was and whom he thought was a rapist, and his aunt, had returned from the afterlife. As if these things weren't enough, the fact that Jon lived in the _Conqueror's_ life for _twenty-two years, technically_ making him the oldest person on the stay, capped off the new reality that Ned understood Robb had to process.

' _The things that Aegon must have seen and experienced living for twenty and two years in the life of the Dragon and I could tell Jon had told but naught of his life except for the real reasons behind the Conquest and what happened in the ritual'_ thought Ned. In a way, being more capable than his son to accept the situation. ' _In the end, even if I tried to think about it as little as possible, I've always known the truth about Aegon.'_

"No Robb. I need to speak to Uncle Benjen as soon as possible ... He, or someone he knows, may know about the tree of my death, vision, dream or whatever it was ... in three days Rhaegar, my mother and I, left Winterfell for _Castle Black._ " answered his nephew at first with just a thread of broken and absent voice, to culminate in an inflexible way and that did not allow discussion ' _I_ _t is difficult for not to obey this new Jon. Although he does not order things directly, his gestures, looks and way of speaking compel one to do so.'_

"Maybe the children should go to rest and let us adults talk, don't you think ehm?" Eddard intervened, trying to agree to Aegon's request, but without his children being present ' _I_ _f things escalate as before… I don't know how the five of us are going to end up_ . _'_

 _'Jo…'_ Aegon was still in the same posture he had been almost since they had settled in the lord's solar. Sitting on the edge of a chair on the side of the stay, almost against the wall of the fireplace. His posture leaning forward. Ghost on his lap, which he caressed with his left hand. His right arm on which his chin rested was on his knee, as he observed the situation with an unseemly look for a five- and ten-day-old days of the name that his body appeared, with a glow as strong and sharp as that of the sword that now belonged to him. Arya was sitting at his feet and playing with her wolf and seemed to have no intention of leaving looking at the face she had put on. And apparently her cousin thought like she, because Aegon began to shake his head, staring at Ned.

"Lord Stark, I am not the one to say how you should raise your children, or what they should do. I'm just saying that what is being said here, they will know sooner or later, and I prefer that they know it directly. Prolonging the agony of secrecy and trying to keep them out of reality will not make them avoid it. There will be a day when you and your wife are gone and your children will have to assume their roles. Do you hope that without knowing what this world is _really like_ , they will know how to act in it?" questioned accusingly his nephew, who did not even let Ned answer, stopping him before that with a gesture of his right hand.

“Visenya with two and ten days of the name knew how to handle the entire castle by herself. Aegon, a few months older than Robb is now, married with her. And with six and ten days of the name he fought in battles bloodier than all those of the _Conquest_ combined. Do you really want to repeat the chain of mistakes that led to the near extinction of your family fifteen years ago? Because if one thing is clear about what happened fifteen years ago, is that my mother, _Lyanna Targaryen_ and my _father, Rhaegar Targaryen_ were happily married by the time your brother Brandon walked to his death by setting off the spark of the Rebellion. From there, there was no going back." His nephew said now with his back fully erect on his chair and his cold accusing eyes on him.

“I have been in the shoes of a King, and Brandon's actions would have been punished yes or yes by any person with half a brain who wielded the _Crown._ Whether or not their accusations were real ... Tell me Lord Stark, for what reason was the last _trial of Seven held_ in _Westeros? …_ What differentiated the _Mad King_ from a _true King_ were the reasons and ways in which he did _justice_. Tell me Lord Stark, what would you do if the heir of the Bolton house, Umber or Manderly, accompanied by a series of minor bannermen sworn to them, came to the castle gates and accused Robb of being a rapist, threatening to cut off his head in the process? _"_ Aegon finished with an imperious voice, pointing at him with his right index finger, without lowering his gaze, which felt as if it were penetrating Ned's soul

' _Aegon Targaryen, because this couldn't be Jon'_ fixed his questioning and cold gaze on him. Ned expected many things, but that the first thing in the conversation about the _Rebellion_ was to have to put himself in the shoes of the _Mad King_ more than fifteen years ago, did not enter even the remotest of his thoughts... ' _He's right, it's a good question... What would I do in the situation he describes? Even if Robb was guilty, allowing a bannerman to threaten to end his life is a way to weaken the power of House Stark. A bannerman must ask his lord for justice, not demand or threaten him.'_ Shrugging his shoulders and with a resigned voice, Eddard answered the question that his nephew asked him.

“Possibly the first thing I would do, would be put him in shackles and take him to the dungeons to clarify the situation… And I must admit that the ways in which Brandon went to _Kings Landing_ were not the best… His wolf blood made it that way... The fact that Aerys was the king only made the situation worse…”However, Ned could not finish because Rhaegar prepared to intervene, rising from his chair and kneeling at the front of the desk in his solar, fixing his eyes on his, with sorrow and regret present on them.

"Lord Stark, on behalf of House Targaryen, I want to apologize for my father's actions… He was mad and what he did was an atrocity and a crime…" His voice heavy and embarrassed. Eddard couldn't help but nod, accepting the gesture Rhaegar had made. ' _At least he acknowledges his father's madness and his crimes. Would Robert do the same to Lyanna regarding her in-laws? I doubt it very much...'_

His brother-in-law sat back in his chair, with a gaze towards infinity, which seemed sad and full of melancholy. “It's my fault that my father continued on the _Iron Throne_ … You see, the Tourney of Harrenhal, where Lya and I met, was secretly financed by me. I wanted to be able to summon a _Great Council of the Realm_ in which I would expose my father's madness and stop the plans to overthrow my house that were underway, with the same movement... but the _essosi eunuch, Varys_ " said Rhaegar with revulsion and almost spitting the name “the _master of whispers,_ seemed to have as mission in life increase my father's paranoia and madness, as well as being very good at his job. I underestimated it and paid for it dearly." end Rhaegar with a tone of self-reproach and guilt.

"That Varys is still the _master of Whispers_ , isn't he, Lord Stark?" to which Ned nodded. “If it's as good as Rhaegar claims, some action should be taken for tonight's events. Tell me, do you know how his network of information gathering operation works?" Jon questioned his father.

"I'm not sure, Jon Connington thought Varys used orphaned children, who he cut out tongues and taught to write and read..." Sansa's strangled sigh awakened Rickon, who seemed not to know what he was still doing in his solar his father arms, already with the light coming through the window. Eddard put his youngest son on the floor, meanwhile Robb's eyes were wide and Jon had a little restrained gesture of displeasure ' _To the things that some are willing to resort in order to amass power for their ends'_ Ned thought with a bitter aftertaste at the world in which his children had to live. Bran's expression was one of pity towards the fate of the poor orphans and Arya's was one of rage, mimicking Lyanna's. However, even if it was unpleasant and they were children, then Eddard would have to order Jory to find all the children who fit the description given by his brother-in-law, at least to interrogate them and seize all their possessions.

After the reactions of those present, Rhaegar continued his explanation, in the same tone that he had begun “Because of him, Aerys left the _Red Keep_ for the first time since _Dunksdale_. To thwart my attempt to overthrow him. The first enemy in my father's mind was always me. And the second, Tywin Lannister. When Tywin tried to convince him to marry his daughter Cersei with me, my father not only denied the request, but humiliated him. This caused a rift between the two that led to my father's fear of him. For this reason, he also used the Tourney to make him _pay_ for Jaime, preventing him from marrying Lysa Tully... although because of my actions and what I have learned, in the long run, my father had a certain reason in his madness..." Rhaegar said laconically and blankly.

Eddard could never imagine what would be to be in the boots of the son of the _Mad King,_ but listening to his brother-in-law, what he could infer is that it must have been a nightmare for him. However, the despondency that had washed over Rhaegar left him, to harden his position again.

“But unlike me, he was never able to see the political maneuver that were orchestrating between Lord Tully and Lord Arryn aided by others I do not yet know, but of whom I have my suspicions. Thanks to the death of Lord Steffon when he returned from the mad mission my father ordered him, they obtained a puppet king for their cause in my cousin, Robert Baratheon. The situation in which his parents died, ensured that the hatred for the Targaryens was imbued in his soul, and at the same time his blood made him the third in the line of succession until my brother Viserys was born" Rhaegar narrated with a tone that seemed intended to explain something to a child.

He was about to interrupt him, but Ned decided to let him to finish seeing how the events of the _Rebellion_ were seen _from the other side_. Eddard continued to gaze at Rhaegar, as did the rest of those present. The way of telling it made the children identify it with a story from the _Old Nan._ ' _Rhaegar certainly knows how to win the audience's attention with a good story, as for now this seems like a real lie to me. Jon Arryn plotting to overthrow his king? Before the long night would come ... although according to Jon, this is yet to come. After what I saw today, I have to have a more open mind' s_ o he decided not to interrupt his brother-in-law until he finished the story. Jon, for his part, had his eyes fixed between him, his wife Catelyn and his father Rhaegar. It was an accusatory look and with a certain contempt. ' _It is seen that he does not finish buying the story either' he_ thought while analyzing the situation.

“A _Lord Paramount_ only marries his children to those of another _Lord Paramount_ to form an alliance in preparation for war. Justifying it in any of the justifiable ways. If a warden wants to strengthen his position in his domain, he marries his heir to the heir of the third or fourth most powerful house. The promotion and internal struggle between the bannermen of the domain is the only way to maintain the position of lord over it. You can give me the excuse of the _Riverlands_ harvests _,_ but remember, which came first - your stint at the _Vale_ with Robert, or the engagement between Brandon and your current wife? as we well know it was the first thing ... It was Jon Arryn's opening movement, to bring the _North_ closer with the _Vale and_ the _Storm's Lands”_ concluded Rhaegar with his arms and palms extended forward.

Suddenly with one sentence, it seemed like they were changing the story of his life. _'Is what he's saying really possible? Everything he's saying doesn't sound crazy. Unlike. The more he explains, the less history of the Old Nan seems, and the more a true conspiracy to overthrow the House of Targaryen. So many coincidences begin to be suspicious ... and the times add up ... " Ned_ thought while he sighed deeply. Apparently Jon also began to see that his father might be more right than his nephew initially believed and relaxed his gaze on Rhaegar, but not on Catelyn and him.

"And your lord father, whose domain is one of the most unstable in the kingdoms along with that of the Tyrells" continued his brother-in-law _,_ now addressing Catelyn "auctioned you and your sister among all the _Wardens_ of _Westeros,_ until one took the bait _._ When they enlisted Lord Stark's support through the _Vale,_ offering him in exchange for breaking his oath, a grandson who was King of _Westeros,_ they could start their game. That's why they tried to marry Jaime Lannister to Lysa Tully, and he ended up in the Kingsguard.“ Rhaegar finished singing with sadness and sorrow. ' _How can he feel sorry for his father's murderer?'_

"Jaime Lannister murdered your father whom he had sworn to defend with his life, Your Excellency" Eddard said to his brother-in-law, in a disapproving tone. Ned didn't expect him to react as if Robert's hammer had fallen back on his chest.

“ _Rhaegar,_ Lord Stark, _Rhaegar._ I am not excellence from anywhere and if I were, I doubt that anyone would want to follow who has already died to demonstrate his ineffectiveness as a leader... Jaime had six and ten days of the name when the _Sack_ happened... Lya has already told me... And if he killed my father, it must have been because his madness would have threatened a greater good. In addition, he died fulfilling the promise he made me, defending my daughter. For me, he's a hero." Everything his brother-in-law said and show in his expressions had completely taken him out of his brains.

Dejected, defeated demeanor coupled with a trembling and broken voice, with tears streaming silently down his porcelain-carved face. It was a heartbreaking and hypnotic image. The mythical Rhaegar Targaryen was totally broken in his solar. Only the hand of his sister Lyanna on his leg and a pat from Jon on his shoulder, seemed to bring him out of the trance and he resumed his version of the events of the _Rebellion._

“House Targaryen was isolated and truly without allies.The _tradition of preserving the pure blood,_ almost completely isolated us from the typical family marriage alliances to reinforce the position of power. We depended on the _dragons first_ , and the _leadership ability_ in the _Kings_ of the day _,_ to exercise the law of the _Crown_." Without Ned quite knowing why, Rhaegar looked reproachfully at his son, who responded with a look that could kill.

 _'What's this all about? Does Rhaegar blame Jon for the Targaryen family incest and their form of ruling? And why is Jon offended by Rhaegar's contempt for speaking about it?'_ Although Ned was beginning to see the events that were unfolding long before the _Rebellion_ in a different light, he was unable to understand the dynamic between Aegon and his recently discovered father, who continued with the tale.

“When _The Improbable_ failed in his attempt to curtail the power of the lords over the peasants, many great lords began to see that if they wanted, they could oppose the will of the _Crown_. And my father was the perfect excuse they needed to act against the house Targaryen with morals on their side. They just had to wait until he burned the wrong person and the whole network of alliances would be launched against the _Throne_ and House Targaryen, after which it would only be a matter of defeating me, the only one capable of standing up to them and taking over off all ... Jon Arryn must have been Robert's _Hand_ , right? " Rhaegar finished his explanation, having regained some composure.

He nodded, barely able to move it. Seeing how all the schemes and mental images he had about his adoptive father were broken to pieces, was being one of the hardest blows Ned had received in his life ' _Was I so blind in search of acceptance for being the second son, that I did not realize what were the people around me like? Jon Arryn taught me what honor is. I've tried to live for it all my life. And it turns out that the difference between him and Tywin Lannister is that he was never going to stain his hands directly.'_

Although his brother-in-law was right in his reasoning, it did not exempt him or Lyanna from having eloped without even transmitting at some point, that they knew each other and had a previous relationship. ' _Why didn't Lya say anything? Why did she run away with him?'_ since he had her in front of him, and with a harsher tone than Ned intended, letting out too many emotions and getting defensive, he asked her

"Why did you run away with him? By the old gods Lyanna! You were engaged to Robert! What spirit possessed you to do such a madness?" the savage look his sister gave Ned was more like that of _the huge Direwolf,_ now resting in the kennels, when she was found returning from the execution of the _Night's Wacht_ deserter. _'A she-wolf that felt attacked_.'

“The madness that I tried to explain to everyone! To you, to our lord father, to Brandon! Even to Lord Arryn in the Tournament! But none of you would hear it! No, you for example, believed the word of your _beloved_ Robert over that of your sister." Lyanna pronounced Robert's name as if spitting it out bile and continued “You thought he would be faithful to me and I would be happy living with him, when what he was going to do was lock myself up in a tower and use me as a brood mare until he got bored of me and went leaving bastards for the _Seven Kingdoms_ ”Lyanna said. Exaltation and rage in his voice, her fury barely contained by Rhaegar Targaryen's grasping hand, who at times seemed to have a livid face and was piercing him with his gaze.

"After I was crowned in the Tourney, it never occurred to you to even ask if we had spoken or if we knew each other before hand ... no ... you reacted as if we had fucked in the middle of the stands ..." the fury, contempt and violence of his sister's words were leaving everyone absolutely shocked.

"Do you remember Howland Reed?" His sister asked him sharply and abruptly.

“Yes” he replied to his sister monotonously, frowning as he bitterly remembered Howland ' _Of course I remember him. Without him I would not be alive'_

"Did he ever tell you where I was on the second day of the jousts when _supposedly_ I was indisposed due to _feminine discomfort?"_ It was true that his sister had been absolutely missing that day, but he had suspicions that she was helping Howland or Benjen as a squire, but he did not understand what it had to do with her and the _Silver Prince._

 _"What? No…_ What does it have to do with all that?" Ned asked his sister with confusion evident in the voice and expresions.

She first muttered something that was understood as a _cursed oath,_ then took a deep breath and said staring at him “I was the _Knight of the LaughingTree_ Ned!! Rhae and I met when he came looking for me on his father's orders and I thought he was going to burn me… so I attacked him. Although I barely bothered him, he gave up but took advantage of my doubt about what to do to dismount and unmask me… and well… then we became friends… We walked every night through the forests and the _Godswood_ of Harrenhal. He taught me to use the sword better… Arthur Dayne was my sparring partner, Ned !! The matter, we don't really know how, but we started to tell each other all our secrets…” Ned's sister said with a half smile, remembering what seemed like the best days of her life. Lyanna's voice was warm and tender.

A total change with the violence and disgust used moments before. Arya was with her mouth wide open and looking at her aunt as if she were Visenya reincarnated ' _What I was needing. Now she's going to want to joust, not just use the bow or the sword '_ Sansa on her part, had an expression of contained surprise and confusion, while Catelyn for the first time in a while seemed to react, with a gesture of disgust and disapproval. ' _For her, that a noblewoman enters a joust as a mysterious knight must be the antithesis of what she considers suitable or appropriate for a lady'_ the gesture did not go unnoticed by Jon, who gave her a censuring look that plunged her back into the trance in which she had sunk all night.

Lyanna, took the opportunity to continue how she had come to marry Rhaegar. “I had suspicions about Maester Wylas and the moves Father was making since he arrived in Winterfell, so I shared them with Rhaegar at the Tournament. Between the two of us, we discovered everything my husband has told you. We think that the citadel could be involved by the role of Wylas in father's contact with Jon Arryn, but we are unable to understand the motivations…”Lyanna ended as looking for the answer that seemed to have within reach, but was unable to reach it.

“Rhaegar told me in turn, of his father's madness, his fears that his father would provide the ideal excuse to eradicate his family, and the plans he had to overthrow his father. And how because of Aerys's madness, he had to keep up the charade of being married to Elia for the safety of her and her daughter with her. After Rhaenys she couldn't have any more children, and if by a miracle she did, she knew it would kill her…" Now his sister paused and sighed before returning to the thread of explanation. ' _Without a doubt, talking about deaths in childbirth must be something that should make her hair stand on end'_

"By the time of the tournament, the marriage between the two had been annulled for more than six moons because of Elia proved infertility and Rhaenys legitimized as Targaryen and Heir until Rhaegar had a son" ended Lyanna as if it were something normal. _'How? what annulled?? Wasn't Lya the second wife? My sister was the fucking Queen of Westeros and I fought to overthrow her? For the gods!'_

But Ned was having none of it. Enraged with the past. Nevertheless Elia had a baby. Rhaegar and Elia might be annulled their vows, but Rhaegar wasn't much better than Robert, spawning bastards on his previous wife while he waited to marry the next. That is something more typical of the _Unworthy,_ than of the honorable man that his sister painted Rhaegar. He saw the body of Elia's son, his lock of blond hair on his head torn apart by Ser Gregor Clegane. Lyanna had been tricked and Ned had to make her see it.

“And the baby I saw at the foots of the _Iron Throne_ , whose was it, huh? What differentiates Robert from your husband? While he cajoled you, he continued to have relationships with his former wife. What about your honor?" he asked reprovingly and reproachfully at his sister.

' _Rhaegar took advantage of her immaturity, made up a story that fit the political situation in Westeros and made her fall in love with his physical appearance'_ But it seemed that the last thing he had caused in his sister was shame or regret. Instead, Lyanna suddenly tensed and moved closer until she was only a few steps away from him. Her eyes a cloudy gray from the tears that did not stop falling from them. The anger and guilt in Lya's gaze were beginning to scare Eddard.

“It was your nephew Ned !! Brandon and Ashara Dayne's son, product of the _episode_ they had between them during the tournament on the first night !!! You consoled her when Brandon proved he had only lied to her and was not going to give up the title of Lord of the North! 'The baby mangled you saw in the Hall of the _Iron Throne_ was the son of your brother and the woman you loved, and you let loose his murderers !!! Where is your vaunted honor _Ned_ ??? !!" her sister Lyanna's screams could be heard from _Kings Landing._

Yet all he was able to hear was a kind of buzz. He felt totally numb, as if he had left his body and it was not responding. Unknowingly, Ned began to cry, as did his sister, as did Jon, who had a face and look of understanding that did not have before.

' _Robert not only did not condemn my nephew's murderers, no. He stained his corpse calling it a dragon spawn, that the only thing it deserved was to die. And I did nothing but complain a little and walk away with my tail between my legs, because Jon Arryn convinced me that it was for the good of the kingdom that Tywin was not punished. Jon Arryn again…'_ the despair that was seizing him prevented him from thinking clearly. He got up from his chair behind the desk and walked over to Lyanna, trying to hold onto what he knew and had seen.

"It's not possible! How did the son of Ashara come to be passed as the _heir to_ the _Crown Prince? "_ Ned refused to accept what they were telling him. It couldn't be. When he found Aegon in the Tower of Dorne, he knew that there had been lies surrounding the _Rebellion_ , but he could not imagine the extent and depth of them, on both sides. It couldn't be that everything he had believed in his entire life was a lie. The _Rebellion_ didn't just cost him his sister, brother and father. Also the love of his life and his nephew, her son. ' _I would have raised him like he was mine… Ash and I could have married if Brandon had married Catelyn'_

His sister pulled him out of the bottomless pit of grief in which he was beginning to drown, adopting a patronizing tone, explaining how his nephew became the victim of Robert's anti-Targaryen fury. “Thanks to Rhaegar and me, we were going to see to it that that child was not lacking for anything, but to prevent Aerys from retaliating against Elia or Rhaenys for the annulment of the marriage, it was presented as the ideal cover until the moment of my husband seizing the power and reveal everything. After the Tourney, Ashara who was convinced she was pregnant with Brandon, left with Elia and Rhaegar to Dragonstone while I returned to Winterfell for about nine months. When I go back to the _Riverlands w_ ith the excuse of Brandon and Lady Catelyn's Wedding, Rhae and I would get married. If Ashara was really pregnant, her son or daughter would be born in Dragonstone on the same dates and pretend to be the son of Elia and Rhaegar." His sister's words made sense, but Eddard was unwilling or unable to understand it. He felt lost, he no longer knew what to believe. But Lya seemed to want to keep hitting while the steel was hot.

“When Rhaegar came to power, the whole situation would be cleared up without a hitch. Since the real Aegon was in my womb from the night that Rhaegar and I got married on the _island of the Faces_ ... I was in _Riverrun_ _Ned._ I was the _wife_ that my _husband was_ talking about who was accompanying him" concluded Lyanna between tears, with fury running through her body, to the point of making her tremble.

He was a few steps from her, but Ned's gaze was fixed on his wife. The one who according to the words of Lyanna and his brother-in-law, knew all the time the lies on which everything was built, and never said anything. Not only that, she actively participated _._ The panicky attitude, the sweat beaded forehead, the shifting eyes between their children and her nervous hands seemed to say everything.

' _Have she ever cared about anything apart of status and power? Did I go to war when my wife knew that the causes of this were unjust? Did she really know that Lya and Rhaegar were married?_ ' It couldn't be. ' _Couldn't?'_

But everything fit. Political movements had been mapped out long before the gods dammed Tournament. Long before Lyanna and Rhaegar even met. And his wife had always been aware of it. The clairvoyance of the situation caused him to tense his entire body as if he were heading into a battle. He turned rigth in front of Catelyn. Even with the tears shed for his nephew who Ned didn't even know that it was and he had lost, accumulated on his cheeks, his gaze darkened.

With the harshest and most accusatory tone he was capable of muster, scaring all of his children, and even Lyanna a little. "Have you always known ??!!!" Ned asked Catelyn, more like a statement than a question. “After Brandon died, you played along, you married me and you never said anything !! BY ALL THE GODS, CAT !!! Not only my family or Rhaegar and Jon's suffered from the war !! Thousands of men died because of the greed of your father and Jon Arryn !! You knew it and you could have stopped it by telling me after our wedding! You had four days to tell me before I left again to risk my life to overthrow my sister and my nephew !! How is it possible?" he ended up dejected, defeated and totally overwhelmed by the events and facts that came to light in what seemed like an endless day.

Ned's wife, recovered as best she could, crying inconsolably, threw herself on him and between sobs answered him "Targaryens are sinners and products of incest, Ned !! The _Seven_ had always been desecrated by the Targaryens !! They had plunged the kingdoms into a thousand wars and they intended to take away the position of some lords and reduce the power of others…” Trying to breathe, to find the justification for her actions, Cat's gave him a look that sought his understanding, but that was beginning to give Eddard disgust. “Aerys's madness only reaffirmed divine duty and obligation to remove the Targaryens from the throne. My father promised me that if I did my duty to the family, my daughters with Brandon would be queens and my grandchildren would be kings and princes !! Your friendship with Robert ensured that, or else Jon Arryn would take care of it sooner or later to make it real… _Family, Duty, Honor_. _Ned_ , I couldn't fail to the words of my house" Catelyn ended the justification of her actions.

 _'All this to put the Tully blood on the bloody Throne. This is what my own wife is capable of resorting to to put her grandson in that seven times accursed Throne?_ 'Before anyone could say anything, Catelyn knelt in front of him, clinging to his legs, as she implored him. “But my lord, I swear I know nothing of your sister's letter to Brandon. Lysa never said anything to me. I swear by the seven, by the father and the mother, I swear it on the lives of our children” after which Catelyn's dissolved into a bundle of tears and convulsions at his feet.

His children, with the exception of Rickon, had a mixture of expressions of disgust, disappointment and disbelief. Rickon did not understand anything of what was happening was clinging to Sansa. Lyanna had to be held by Rhaegar and Jon so as not to physically assault Catelyn.

Both Targaryens had a fury in their gazes that no doubt showed why they were known as _dragons_. _'Had Jon had Blackfyre with him, I don't know if anyone would have been able to prevent him from opening Catelyn in half with it'_ Ned thought with some panic, but maybe not as much rejection as he should have felt, as he watched the murderous expresion in his nephew. Standing up straight, shoulders back, jaw set, teeth clenched in a clear sign of irritation. His eyes, two pools of black interspersed with angry purple streaks that seemed to come out of his eye sockets. Jon took a deep breath and headed toward the center of the solar, but with the eyes fixed looking where Catelyn was lying, Aegon raised his voice in a tone that did not give rise to objection.

“Ser Rodrik! Andrew!" no one reacted to Jon's actions. Ned could sense what was coming next, and he knew it would need his approval. He crossed eyes with his nephew, and resignedly nodded to him ' _Who better than the King who has had to grow up in the shadows because of me, to exercise justice'_ looking for a certain positivity to the situation. When the master at arms and the guard entered, they were totally disoriented by the situation in the solar, but were quickly taken out of their astonishment by Aegon, with an imperious and cold voice, at the same time that he adapted the posture of a _King_ before dictate sentence

“I, Aegon Targaryen, the **_Dragon Reborn and King in the Shadows_** , _King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,_ find Lady Catelyn Tully guilty of high treason against the _Crown_ and against the Stark house. Hence, since today her marriage to Lord Stark has been annulled, she has been stripped of all power over the house or its administration, along with all her privileges in the North, and her fate will be decided in due course." Robb's face was indignant, but he made no move to slow down his cousin. Sansa began to cry uncontrollably, asking him to ignore Jon. Arya seemed to be enjoying the moment, as was Lyanna. Rhaegar was impassive, it seemed that he was not even present, but Bran was beside him, glassy-eyed, shaking hands with his Aunt Lyanna.' _Bran has always been the most empathetic in the family. Although it is his mother who is judged, it is his aunt who lost the most because of his mother.'_ When Ser Rodrik tried to say something, he himself confirmed the order.

“Ser Rodrik, Andrew. Seize Lady Tully and confine her to her rooms. Nobody, nobody, except for _HIS GRACE_ or myself, enters or leaves them. Food will always be given to her by one of you two and the rest of the guard must know of Lady Tully's new status and situation." Andrew immediately nodded his head and turned to Catelyn who began to curse and insult Ned, much to the shame of his children.

“You are a stupid northern barbarian! Brandon was a thousand times more of a man than you, you the second! Your gods have no name, by the _Seven they_ are trees! You would rather support a family of sinful incest spawns, of which your nephew's bastard is the last link, than your own !! SANSA COULD HAVE BEEN QUEEN! OUR GRANDSON KING!" she ended up screaming as she began to be dragged away by Andrew. Robb tried to intervene, but he quickly intervened and stopped his son, grabbing him by the arm.

“Ser Rodrik, Robb, you have already heard _our King_. Lady Tully has confessed her crimes without seeking trial before me, the lord of the North, and before his grace, Aegon, the rightful _King_ of the _Seven Kingdoms_. His grace has exercised justice and I agree with the verdict it has reached. Therefore, Ser Rodrik, do not have me to repeat the order. And Robb, even if he's your cousin, his grace, he's the King. To intervene against his judgment is to intervene against the _King._ I hope you remember the conversations that took place tonight” Eddard said coldly, chiding both his master at arms and his son.

His nephew thanked with a nod, while Robb was leaving enraged of the site. Sansa seemed to regain some composure and retired with Rickon in her arms, accompanied by Bran, in the direction of their rooms.

' _Robb is not used to someone close to him in age having more power than him. It will cost him to accept that he owe respect and loyalty to Jon as King'_

* * *

It seemed that none of those who remained in the lord's solar were in a state to retire to sleep, after everything that had happened. His daughter Arya sitting next to Aegon on the side of the fireplace, was talking to her cousin in whispers, having their sleeping pups at their feet. The parents of his _new King_ , were sitting now where before Robb and his wife were _'No longer. The first action of my nephew as king has been to annul our marriage. If Ashara was still alive…'it_ was his nephew who pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Uncle, I must thank you for what you just did. Although I am not really _King of anything now_ , it means a world to me that you recognizes me as _your King_. I can't be sure when, but I can promise you that the moment the _Iron Throne is_ once again in the hands of my family, your actions will not be forgotten." With this Arya seemed the happiest person on the stays, seeing that the one she considered her brother had somehow made peace with him. In turn, Aegon's words confirmed what he'd been suspecting since that last night. The Targaryens had returned, intending to get back to _Fire and Blood._ Rhaegar seemed to have come to the same conclusion as well, looking between excited and bewildered.

“Aegon, do you plan to recreate the _Dragon's_ conquest _?_ Weren't we and your mother going to go to the wall? " the half broken and questioning voice, showed that the _Crown Prince_ did not have them all with him at the words of Aegon.

“And that plan will not change. Even if Ihad Balerion, it would still be the plan. My first priority is trying to understand exactly what happened 287 years ago in Visenya's ritual and if there really is a threat beyond the _Wall_ …” The voice of his nephew trailed off towards the end. _'Whatever he experienced in the ritual and in the Conqueror's life, they have placed an added burden on him. There are moments when it seems that he had the destiny of the world resting on his shoulders'_ his thoughts were interrupted because Jon somehow managed to overcome the melancholy that was about to invade him, adapting a resigned but authoritative voice, he continued.

“After that our destination will be Braavos and Essos. We have to find my uncle and aunt, your brother and sister. We have to reunite the family and prepare a firm base from which to prepare an army loyal to us, trained with the sole purpose of fighting both against the possible enemies that arise in Essos, as well as to fight those that we already know we have here" ended sharply his nephew. His mother, Ned's sister Lyanna, seemed to have a better idea, so she was quick to expose her _'Lya had always been like this. If she had a thought in her head that she believed could help the situation, she would share it, crazy as it might sound. I am very afraid that that was what condemned her and Rhaegar'_ Ned thought bitterly, now that he knew exactly what happened in the _Rebellion,_ the plan to pass off Ashara and Brandon's son as Elia and Rhaegar's had every sign of being a product of his sister.

"Egg, you have the North ... And you are single ... Surely the daughter of some Warden wants to be _Queen ..._ that would already grant you two of the _Seven Kingdoms_ , plus the sure support of the ancient loyalists to the house Targaryen ..." his sister Lyanna could not finish her speech, because her son Jon, interrupted abruptly.

“You and Rhaegar are my parents, but that does not mean that I agree or share, the ways and means in which you developed your relationship, that the only thing that provoked was to give the excuse they needed to those who were waiting for the opportunity to give a fatal blow to the Targaryen dinasty. Even in the best of the success scenarios of your plans, Rhaegar's reign would have been an unstable one and one that would depend on the favor of the great lords…”Aegon said, like a maester explaining a lesson to two young children. His voice was inflexible and somewhat harsh.

“If it is true that the _Long Night_ is at our doors, I cannot allow myself to be a _King_ who depends on his allies, while I have to be aware of whether they betray me from behind because they find a better candidate to rule them. No ... We need wealth and armies of our own. We need the great lords to come looking for us, not us for them." The barely concealed disgust at the situation the _Iron Throne had found itself in_ in recent years was evident in the irritation in his nephew's voice and in the tension that exuded his body.

_'Of course, seeing that everything that the Conqueror built ended up in the hands of the whims of a series of lords who really wielded power in the Kingdoms, should not sit well with Jon, who lived and experienced how the Dragon built the Seven Kingdoms. Based on his disgust and contemp at the mere idea of it, I am sure that the Conqueror never put himself in a situation of dependence on anyone and Jon has internalized it as a personal creed of his'_

His daughter Arya interrupted his thought, at the same time that she was beating her uncle Rhaegar, who seemed on the verge of complaining to his son. "Jon, so what are you planning to do?" Arya asked in a barely audible and confused voice. His big gray eyes, fixed on his cousin, who ruffled her hair and gave a knowing smile.

“My words are _Fire & Blood,_ Arya. And they are not just a motto. Those who accept the Targaryen restoration and bend the knee will be well received. Those who don't will know exactly why of those words." He ended with a threatening tone that left little room for doubt as to what destiny he had in mind for his enemies. If the faces of his brother-in-law and sister were a poem, he didn't want to imagine what his must look like. Ned never imagined that the shy and withdrawn boy he had raised for fifteen years was capable of instilling fear with just his voice and his gesture.

' _His words are not vain, nor empty. He really plans to deliver Fire and Blood to all his enemies. The old Gods protect us!'_ Before anyone could question Aegon, he turned in the direction of his father and mother and began to speak in a low, firm voice that grew and grew harsher with each word.

“It is true that my uncle made his mistakes due to his naivety and ignorance of the political movements that were taking place in the shadows. It is true that my maternal grandfather was a greedy man…” he said with a tone that was to some extent exonerating, although loaded with a certain contempt and anger _'_

 _'Although really, he is absolutely right in what he says'_ something that made him his heart was compressing. The more he analyzed what he knew now and what he knew before, the more rage _washed_ over him at having been used like any other piece on the political board. Still, it seemed that Jon's annoyance was primarily directed at his father Rhaegar, as he closed his accusing gaze on him, continuing his exposition.

“But you Rhaegar, you, you should have thought coldly and with your head between your shoulders ... You, how well you have narrated tonight, knew better than anyone the volatile situation of the _Kingdoms,_ before which you did nothing. You had a _Duty_ not only for your family, _but for the Kingdom_ s " The tone of reproach and disappointment was palpable in Jon's voice. Both his father and mother seemed not to expect their son to lecture them on their vital choices _'But his son really takes fifteen years out on Rhaegar and twenty years out on Lya'_ Thought Ned, who had chosen to sit still in his chair behind his desk, watching the trouble unfold among the Targaryens.

Without taking his cold, accusing eyes off Rhaegar, Aegon continued to _teach him his lesson._ “Your Duty was for everyone and for each one of those lives that are under the power of the great lords to do with them what they want. If you really thought about doing something different, changing the situation and the current _status quo_ , forcing them to go to war is not the ideal way to start your _Reign_ "

The _vicious_ verbal attack on his father made this one try to defend himself quickly, crossing his arms and looking at Jon with a deep indignation and some reproach, as if his son really did not know anything. _'I imagine that is how my reaction to denying the facts that I had been shown between Lya and her husband looked like. Admitting that what one believes in is wrong is not easy ... Much less should it be when it is your son who points out your own failures'_

His brother-in-law, Rhaegar, answered his son, with a voice that had some irritation and exasperation “But once my father was deposed, there would have been no wars! I would have promised you to Rhaenys, appeasing Dorne. I would have the support of the North and…. " He began to explain himself, as if teaching him, but it is seen that Jon had no intention of wanting to know any of that, stopping his father by raising a hand to let him speak.

Somewhat hesitant, Rhaegar nodded after understanding that everything in Jon's body expression implied that this was not a request, but an order. _'Since when is Jon able to exude this authority with just one gesture?'_ Before he could delve into it, Jon's hitherto tense but still impassive gesture mutated. His brow furrowed, his eyes fixed on his father's, with a look from which the stranger himself would flee. There was a mixture of disgust, anger, condescension, and _pity_ in his gaze?

"Tell me, in what scenario did your kingdom function after your wedding to my mother and the _peaceful_ overthrow of a mad man who burned orphaned children for stealing loaves of bread." Before Rhaegar could answer Jon, Ned's nephew pursed his mouth and clenched his jaw, adopting a look that would kill one of the _others_ , and raising his right hand he told Rhaegar.

"No, don't answer me, I'll explain it to you." With a hard, dry tone. _'As if scolding his father'_ Eddard couldn't help thinking, seeing the situation between his nephew and Rhaegar. Lyanna's face was one of concern when she looked at her son and sorrow when she looked at Rhaegar, who was beginning to be slumped over the chair. Until then he seemed to be able to resist the stakes of his son with stoic calm, but his gaze began to express more than it had even when there was talk of the death of his daughter _'Return from the dead so that your son explained to you why marrying the love of your life is not the best political guide, it should not be easy._ Ned felt fortunate not to be the object of his nephew's wrath at the time.

" _IF_ you managed to overthrow the _mad king_ based on your alliance with House Stark, the _Crownlands and Dorne_ , how did you plan to rule?" Jon asked metaphorically, as he left his father no choice to answer “You realize that if you were _King_ with my mother by your side, Robert would have married Cersei as well and had the backing of the _Vale_ , the _Storm's Lands_ , the _Westerlands_ and in the best of cases, the neutrality of the _Reach. Unless_ you promised me in marriage to someone even born, making you even more dependent on another great lord while cutting off any possible alliance with Dorne based on Rhaenys and me, making them your enemies on the spot _..._ ”. He spoke icily, lifting one finger from his fist high as he mentioned each of the kingdoms, ending with four raised fingers. With the last thing he said, it seemed that Jon had hit something, for Rhaegar shifted in his chair, opened his mouth a couple of times, but no sound came from it. It was his wife, Lya, who seemed to be able to answer something

“When we went from the _Riverlands_ to _Dorne,_ we passed through _High Garden_. The Tyrells made their help conditional on my unborn son marrying Lady Olenna's granddaughter, if she ever existed…” after which Lyanna shrugged and began to look at the ground with an expression that Ned knew very well _'It's the same face and look she used when she was going to be scolded by father for doing mischief with Benjen. The face of knowing that what she had done, she had done without thinking about the consequences. As with Brandon, the wolf's blood is strong in her ... Too much at times'_ he thought as he let out a sigh that brought the attention he didn't want from Jon. His gaze fell on him for a second with pity, to continue his exposition to his father.

"Possibly Hoster Tully would have annulled the engagement between Brandon and Lady Catelyn, to marry her to Jaime Lannister after the war in one case, or to a Stark in another, being neutral during the conflict." Now he raised his other hand, where he held his clenched fist.

“In the _North_ , despite having a Stark blood heir, fighting in the South for political reasons would not have well received. Especially after preparing the lords by moons to march against the one who at that time, would become their ally, formerly enemy, the House Targaryen. The traditional enemies of House Stark in the north would have rebelled against RIckard Stark, possibly the Boltons would have taken advantage of the internal upheaval to try to rise to power ... and even without that, the North would not have left with its full potential, precisely in case they arose contingencies like that." And so Aegon extended a finger of his left hand

 _'Of course he knows how to rule a Kingdom. By the old gods, I wouldn't have thought of those consequences myself had I marched in Lya's favor!'_ now Ned began to feel sorry for his brother-in-law Rhaegar, who seemed to be being taught a new world, which he seemed to have no idea could exist. His nephew Aegon did not hesitate to follow his explanation of why despite the conspiracy against the Targaryen house, it was the actions of Rhaegar and Lyanna that served as a catalyst for the _Rebellion_ , as well as a shadow that would be cast over all possible situations that could have occurred after.

“Assuming you continued to have the Dorne alliance after publicizing the annulled marriage between you and Elia, they would have to come to your aid first. Dorne is a great rival in their kingdom, but outside of it they lose their great benefit from extreme weather conditions and accurate knowledge of the terrain. Their 30,000 / 40,000 lances can serve you against the cavalry of the _Vale_ and the _Westerlands_ , but these troops would have already had to engage against their traditional enemies of the _Reach_ and the _Dornish Marches_ , on their approach route to the most probable point of concentration of your army. This is in the vicinity of the Blackwater Rush. AndI remember that, I'm counting on the passivity or neutrality of the _Reach_. Let's say that in the end you manage to combine 20,000 Dornishians, 20,000 Northerners, and 15,000 men from the Crown Lands, the latter mostly peasants and forced levies among the common people. Tywin Lannister alone had 25,000 men trained for and ready for war, add to that the ability to raise another 20,000 if necessary. Another 25,000 / 30,000 from Vale, the same from the _Stormlands_." Jon lectured Rhaegar more and more harshly as he raised two more fingers of his left hand, piercing Rhaegar with his gaze. A look Ned had never seen in Jon in 15 years. A look that exuded power, confidence and security in what he said. And displaying a political and strategic understanding unbecoming of a teenager, Aegon continued

“Or the anti-Targaryen coalition could have chosen to temporarily abide by your reign after overthrowing my grandfather, to await the inevitable rift with Dorne, leaving you as a murderer of your own blood who only has two kingdoms for allies and less than 45,000 men against against 70,000 / 85,000." shrugging his shoulders as he pronounced the ending. "Or simply Tywin could have waited for the entire Targaryen royal family to be together and killed them with impunity, putting Robert and Cersei on the throne later" this time in a bitter tone, but admitting no doubt of the certainty of his words.

Silence took hold of the lord's Solar, where you could hear a pin drop. Rhaegar and Ned's sister, seemed to be processing everything their son had told them. He could not agree more on the possible development of events, having much of the information and power that hindsight gives. Yet Eddard would never have been able to make all of those connections in his entire life, even with the evidences before his eyes.

"So tell me, _Father_ , how were you planning to unify and stabilize the kingdom for your _Promised Prince_ if you were going to have to fight at least two wars in a row, with your own position weakened by regime change, outnumbered in troops and outnumbered in allies? without really strong supports? " his nephew said in a way that seemed to be roaring a dragon before his eyes, as he stretched and spread his arms with his palms facing forward, as if asking for explanations. Rhaegar, seemed to have none. And Eddard's could even empathize with his brother-in-law. Being on the other side of Jon's pent-up fury should command respect on even the most impassive of people. But Aegon was not going to stop what was beginning to be a humiliation towards his father.

“You cannot rule from a position of inferiority, even less from the _Iron Throne_ . It does not matter how many allies you have if you are not able to act until your enemy attacks you first. If after acting, you succeed, you would find yourself in the hands of whims and desires, of those who came to save your skin, when their obligation was to serve you." The last words echoed in the solar, already fully illuminated by the morning light.

"Aegon that's not the way to talk to your father" his sister Lyanna tried to intervene, but Jon didn't even take it for granted, keeping his tension and his gaze fixed on his father

“A KING does not serve his vassals, his vassals serve the KING. They should not ask or expect favor or reward for doing their duty. And this can only be achieved if you do not depend on them. And you achieve this because you do not make any of them powerful enough to oppose you, while you try to win over all the lesser lords who are at the service of said ally, thus they end up being your allies." The voice was less aggressive, but no less charged with reproach. "If a _great lord_ poses an impossible threat to subjugate, he is replaced…. Durradon, Hoare and Gardener tell you anything?" the coolness and calm with which Jon spoke those names made the hairs on his back stand up. ' _By the gods! He talks about the extinction of Three thousand-year-old houses as if it were about pruning the garden. This is certainly not Jon.'_

The more he got to know this _new_ nephew of his, the harder it was to have an accurate judgment about him. At times he exuded a coldness and implacability more typical of a tyrant than a King, however if you saw the reason for that coldness and implacability, you would find the common good and his duty as king. _'It is a fine line that the one who holds power has to walk. If you lean too far to one side, you end up being a tyrant, but if you lean toward compassion and pity, you end up dead. And the latter is what Jon is pointing out to his father. Planning with good intentions does not usually end well'_ thought Eddard, who like his daughter Arya, tried not to move a single muscle, for fear of ending up being the target of Jon's wrath.

“The rule of laws and oaths cannot be executed in the lands on which they are in force, _if the king does not have the power_ to enforce them. It is not about being a dictator or a tyrant, it is about the fact that as a threat appears against the established power, you crush it with all the might that the _law_ allows and entrusts you with your _duty._ As _crown_ _prince,_ your duty was to ensure the power of the _Crown_ and therefore of your family. Because both things will always be interrelated ... But as my five and tenn days of the name living hidden under the farce of being a _bastard, along_ the fact that both of you died, like me, probe that you failed to your _Duty_ ”Jon finished off the salvo that had thrown to Rhaegar. Who now was totally dejected, on the verge of tears. Lyanna tried to comfort him, but the only thing she could do was look reproachfully at Jon, who seemed to be carved, not moving a single muscle in his face.

“All for being unable to end the moment you had a choice to the reign of someone in the dubious company of Maegor, Baelor, Aerion, or the Unworthy… When your father returned from the _Dunksdale_ as he did, you should have _acted_. There you had the power and the ability to maneuver, from there on, you were doomed. And your love affair only served to give reasons to all those who were waiting in the shadows…” Jon finished, in a tone of utter reproach and disappointment.

However, Rhaegar seemed to tolerate no more from his son "And you tell me !!! Who claims to have lived in the body of the father of one of those monsters !!!" shouted exalted and furious Rhaegar. Although he was still in the chair, Rhaegar hadn't gotten up from it because of Lyanna's hand on his shoulder. _'The last thing left to cap off the day is a fight between Jon and his newly discovered and revived father'_

Jon's attitude changed suddenly. The _Dragon_ that seemed to inhabit it seemed to disappear, to give way again to the boy who was hiding in the _First Keep_ to avoid Cat's hatred. His body expression was one of dejection, defeat and a look that exclaimed guilt, at the same time that tried to justify his past actions “When the _seven times damned ritual_ was done only Aenys was born, I have no responsibility for what happened next !!! The _Conqueror_ never let me tell him or show him anything from the future !! Every time I did, the damned one blocked me from all connection with him and condemned me to an existence that resembled an infinite fall where you feel nothing except cold and darkness !! Aenys was a quiet boy, he was a good boy, like his mother ... I don't know what happened next from the inside, but if i had been in the body of the _Conqueror_ when Maegor was born, _I swear by all the gods, the old, the new and the Fourteen Flames of Valyria_ that I would have prevented him from becoming the monster he became. And I'm sure it wasn't Aegon's fault either… Visenya was becoming more and more obsessed with the dark arts and blood magic and the three of us are the _fucking_ walking _proof_ of it… I… I… I'm sorry… ”and Jon started to cry how Ned had never seen him. Jon's wolf began to nibble on his feet, while Arya ran to hug him, as did Lyanna.

He and his brother-in-law looked at each other with faces of not knowing what had suddenly happened to Jon. After the sudden _eruption_ in which he exposed all the mistakes made by his father in the last five years of his life, his nephew suddenly was plunged into a torrent of emotions that seemed uncontrollable

"I never had a real family, I never imagined having a child and I never imagined meeting my mother ..." he said between sobs, looking reverently at Lyanna, who gave him a smile from ear to ear, letting him know what would happen. Whatever happened, she loved him the same way she loved him the day he was born ' _With all his life'_ thought Ned, seeing how Rhaegar got up from his chair and with a soft and tender look, he turned to his son.

"Aegon, I hope one day you can forgive, or at the least understand my actions after _Dunksdale until the Trident,_ but be aware that no one regrets more than I, to have not been able to grow with your mother and you. If one day you have a son or daughter, you will understand the suffering it is for me to know that my son, whom I didn't even know before he was born, suddenly stands before me made a man, and I couldn't do anything to protect or take care of him. I couldn't teach you to play the Harp or use the sword ... that's something that I can't do even come back to life”, his brother in law finished with a broken voice, accompanied by immense sadness.

 _'At some point before they go to the wall, I have to talk to Rhaegar and tell him what Jon was like as a kid. We may never be friends, but he is the boy's father and my sister's husband and they are both going to need him, 'he_ mused as Jon shrugged his shoulders and ruefully nodded to the words spoken by his father, and addressing the four people present, with a melancholic and sorrowful voice, continued explaining the reasons for his sudden change of mind

“In what has been one night for you, I lived for twenty-two years having a family, having a son, and at the end of it I have met my mother. Everything I never thought I would have. But in the process I lost that family, I lost that son and I have returned to a world where being me is a reason to endanger everyone around me. I have judged you too harshly, from the position of someone who has all the information and with a certain internal bitterness because of how I have grown based on the decisions of some and others in the past ... Without you I would not be here today, you are and you will always be my father, even if I am really unable to cope with your decisions and actions right now, especially regarding the political situation prior to the Harrenhal Tournament ” Ned's nephew concluded with a firmer voice, but with some remorse and guilt in it. His gaze had lost all coldness and now he had a certain longing for understanding in it.

“Egg, nothing's wrong !! These are many emotions together in a very short time, at least for us ... and in your case, I don't even know how you are capable of being so whole after living what you have lived ... The best thing would be for us to go to rest and when we wake up we will see things of another color. Also, before I go to sleep I want to have breakfast! I have not eaten for fifteen years and that has to change ... What do you say Arya? Do you want to join your uncle and me for breakfast? If you like the history of the house Targaryen, Rhaegar is a walking book about that…” despite having died, his sister continued to be a person who was able to alleviate the blackest of situations, knowing what to say and how to loosen existing tensions. The gloomy atmosphere that had been hovering over the stays most of the night and early morning was suddenly gone, giving rise to a more relaxed atmosphere. Arya shot him a questioning look like asking for permission to go with her aunt _'Possibly tomorrow she will already be wanting to dress up as a mysterious knight in some tournament to save the honor of some poor wretch ... But if there is someone who may be able to stop Arya from making the same mistakes, it is Lyanna'_ so he nodded to his daughter.

Lyanna gave Jon a kiss on the cheek that resonated throughout the lot, much to his nephew feigned annoyance, who turned red from a comment his mother whispered in his ear. Taking Arya's hand, they headed towards the door, where they were preparing to wait for Rhaegar, who did not know how to say goodbye to his son. Something that seemed to replicate this one. The awkward situation was broken again by Lya.

“By the old Gods, you seem like two big headed children, unable to take either of them the first step to admit guilt and accept each other. Give you a hug, you are looking forward to it and you know it! " Ned's sister said with a melodious and mocking voice, to the delight of Arya who frantically affirmed with her head, with a smile from ear to ear and sparkling eyes that exuded joy and happiness for Jon. Lya's sudden intervention drew smiles from him and the two Targaryens, who awkwardly embraced for the first time in their lives, like father and like son. After that Rhaegar stared at his son, and put a hand on his shoulder

“In spite of everything, know that I would die a thousand times again if that ensures that you or your mother will live. I love you son” said Rhaegar in a deep, warm and proud voice. After that he gave Neda look of approval and gratitude, then turned on himself and left with Arya and his wife for breakfast.

Only Ned and Jon were left in the solar. It was the first moment they had alone since the conversation in which he intended to send him to the _Wall_ to spend there the rest of his days. The first moment they were together and Jon really knew who he and his parents were. _'I just hope that in time he will be able to understand my motives and my situation. I could not continue living knowing that the only thing he feels for me is hatred and contempt'_ Apparently he was not the only one of the two thinking the same thing, because stepping his position again, Jon placed his cold and sparkling gaze on him. It was sharp, but it had a caring edge to it.

"I'll never forget, uncle. Both the good and the bad" the clear voice, but full of emotions, with which Aeegon continued "but may one day be able to forgive you" before allowing him to reply, his nephew stopped him with a gesture of his eyes and continued with what he wanted say.

“Both you and I know that Arya will find a way to escape, so it is better that she come with me directly, to end up wandering alone in Essos. She will be protected with Rhaegar, me and the wolves. Also, I wanted to ask you to make Bran my squire. Although not in this body, I am a knight anointed by the oils in the _Starry Sept of Oldtown_ … There is something inside me that tells me I need to have him by my side. Besides that way, whatever happens there will be an heir to Winterfell in Robb in Westeros and another in Bran in Essos with me. If anything happens here while I am campaigning in Essos, Bran is a Stark, and I swear on my honor as a Targaryen and Stark that I would never use him as a political tool. He will be my cousin by blood, but he is my little brother and my duty is to protect him and help him achieve what he wants." His nephew was deciding the fate of his family, but at least he was not ordering anything, nor even had he demanded an oath of allegiance _'Although more loyalty than having two of my children could not have ... but he's not like that ... experienced what he experienced, Jon would never hurt his family'_ besides that his exposition was without fault. Arya would be happy and watched, while Bran could fulfill his dream of being a _Knight_ and if some tragedy happened, the Stark house could continue.

“I see the logic in what you say, and if you swear to me in front of the _Weirwood_ of _Godswood_ that you will protect them and never use them as political instruments, you have my blessing. But I ask you, how long could I not see them? "

“In nine to ten moons I hope to be between Myr and Pentos, if you want, you could see them again there. By that time I will have clarified the situation in the North and resolved the matter with the Iron Bank to give me the basis to start my plans " He said with some doubt, but with decision.

“Jon, why don't you stay in _Westeros_ and do as your mother said. I would get the North on your side. It's the least I can do for you after all…” he tried to convince his nephew. The idea that he, his sister, and two of his children were going to war in Essos was the most squeaky thing about Aegon's plan. But he seemed to have no doubts about him.

"No Uncle. I would make the same mistakes that I have censured my father. I know that you would not ask me for anything in exchange for your help, but your lords I do not think they take very well to take up arms against the King they decided to support fifteen years ago. The fact that my parents have come back to life would only make the situation more tense and complex. In case of obtaining support among the northern houses, this would not be unanimous and could cause attrition in your domain and in the Stark house. I need that when I return from Essos to take what belongs to me, the Stark house is in the best of situations. That is why I would recommend you marry Robb to the daughters of a Manderly or a Kastark. Secure your control of the _North a_ nd when the time comes, answer my call to arms. I am not going to start a war now that I have no chance of winning. Even if I had the _Conqueror's_ dragons _, I would_ at most manage to sit on the _Throne for_ a couple of years, before having to face some kind of general insurrection or rebellion. Our current power base is tenuous to say the least, and nonexistent if we are realistic. We don't have the riches, the allies, the armies, or the right situation in the _Seven Kingdoms_ . The _Dragon_ conquered _Westeros_ taking advantage of a situation that gave him the opportunity to defeat his enemies individually, until he faced the most powerful, the North, with the conquest already consummated. This is what made it possible to offer Torrhen the honorable exit. _IF_ I attacked now, the tables would be reversed. I would use the best warriors of _Westeros_ to fight in a series of endless battles, unified enemies, who individually would be beaten, but collectively and in the long run they would defeat us for resources, manpower, agricultural production and human potential. I will not be a Stark, nor a son of the North, but this runs through my veins. I do not intend to sacrifice the lives of thousands of Northerners sterilely to sit on the _Throne_ , especially if the North has to be the first line of defense against the _Others_ afterwards.” Aegon gaze fixed on Ned's. His purple veins glinting in the warmth of the light coming through the window. His upright position in front of him, his face serene but serious.

His nephew, after whatever he had experienced after the destruction of the First Keep and the resurrection of Ned's sister and brother-in-law, seemed like a different person. A person who he could not deny who or what he was. So Ned got up from behind his desk, to face his nephew. Aegon reacted with some surprise, not knowing very well what to expect from his actions.

As Torrhen did 297 years earlier on the shores of the _Trident,_ a Stark knelt before Aegon Targaryen.

“I, Lord Eddard Stark, _Wardenand Protector of the North_ , pledge my allegiance to eternity and pledge my house and dominion to Aegon of house Targaryen, the rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the _Seven Kingdoms_ and Protector of the Kingdom” Ned said in his most lordly voice, looking down at his nephew, who seemed to be hallucinating, by the way his eyes bulged out of their sockets. Aegon composed himself how he could, and told him

"And I, Aegon Targaryen, _the Dragon Reborn and King in the Shadows, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the first Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm_ accept your oath of allegiance and solemnly swear that I will never carry out actions of which you may be ashamed or bring dishonor to your house or your descendants. I swear the eternal friendship between House Stark and Targaryen, as well as House Targaryen's commitment to come to the aid of House Stark and its vassals, should need warrant. Rise Lord Eddard Stark, _Warden and Lord Paramount of the North_ !" his nephew finished with an imperious, authoritative and energetic voice

' _This is something he should have done fifteen years ago'_ he thought with a growing conviction to himself as he watched his nephew. The features of his face serene for the first time in hours. His gaze showed determination and commitment. His shoulders were straight, in a body that gave off security and command. He had never seen Jon like this, but he never saw him, because he was never able to make him what he was meant to be

 _'A Targaryen, A Dragon, a King, a Conqueror. And these are not subject to men or gods. A leader I would follow '_ Ned thought with strange pride to himself.

* * *

* * *

**Bonus track:**

Characters and Ages

**Stark House**

EDDARD STARK, Lord of Winterfell, Warden and Lord Protector of the North, age 33

his wife, LADY CATELYN, of the Tully house, 31 years old

their children:

ROBB, the heir to Winterfell, a 14 years old. 

SANSA, the eldest daughter, 12 years old.

> ARYA, the youngest daughter, a 10-year-old girl,
> 
> BRANDON, called Bran, 8 years old,
> 
> RICKON, the youngest of the family, a 4-year-old boy,

his ward / hostage, THEON GREYJOY heir to the Iron Islands, 18 years old

His brothers and sister

{BRANDON}, elder brother, killed at age of 20 by Aerys II Targaryen in 282 BC.

LYANNA died giving birth in the mountains of Dorne at the age of 17 in late 282 BC *.

BENJEN, younger brother, a man of the Night's Watch, 30 years old.

members of the house

MASTER LUWIN, Counselor, Healer and Guardian, maester of the Citadel

VAYON POOLE, Administrator of Winterfell,

JEYNE, her daughter, Sansa's closest friend,

JORY CASSEL, Captain of the Guard,

HALLIS MOLLEN, ANDREW **, DESMOND, JACKS, PORTHER, QUENT, ALYN, CAYN, WYL, guards,

SER RODRIK CASSEL, Master of Arms, Jory's uncle,

BETH, his daughter,

SEPTA MORDANE, tutor of the daughters of Lord Eddard,

SEPTON CHAYLE, Keeper of the Castle Sept. And library, along with Maester Luwin

Hullen, master of the stables,

his son, HARWIN, a guard,

JOSETH, horse trainer.

FARLEN, master of the kennel,

Old Nan, storyteller, and once the Stark family's nanny

HODOR, his great-grandson, a stable boy of simple mind,

GAGE, the cook,

MIKKEN, blacksmith and smithy,

its main vassal houses:

SER HELMAN TALLHART, Lord of Torrhen's Square

RICKARD KARSTARK, Lord of Karhold,

ROOSE BOLTON, Lord of the Dreadfort,

JON UMBER, called THE GREATJON, Lord of Last hearth

GALBART and ROBETT GLOVER, Lords of Deepwood Motte

WYMAN MANDERLY, Lord of White Harbor,

SER JORAH MORMONT, Lord of Bear's Island

The main houses sworn in to Winterfell are Karstark, Umber, Flint, Mormont, Hornwood, Cerwyn, Reed, Manderly, Glover, Tallhart and Bolton.

* * *

**Targaryen House**

{KING AERYS TARGARYEN}, the Second of his name, murder by Jaime Lannister during the sack of King's Landing in late 282 BC, age 39

his sister and wife {QUEEN RHAELLA} of House Targaryen, supposedly deceased following the delivery of Danaerys Targaryen at Dragonstone in late 283 BC, at the age of 38 ***

their children:

CROWN PRINCE RHAEGAR, heir to the Iron Throne, assassinated by Robert Baratheon on the Trident in late 282 BC at the age of 21/22 *

his first wife, marriage annulled in early 281 BC, {PRINCESS ELIA} of House Martell, murdered during the sack of King's Landing in late 282 BC

their children:

{PRINCESS RHAENYS} allegedly killed by Amory Lorch during the Sack of King's Landing, at the age of 3 at the end of 282AC ***

{PRINCE AEGON} (actually son of Brandon Stark and Ashara Dayne), murdered by Ser Gregor Clegane, at 4 months of age, at the end of 282AC.

His second wife, PRINCESS LYANNA of House Targaryen (she gave up her name Stark when she ran away with Rhaegar) died in childbed at the mountains of Dorne at age 17 in late 282 BC *.

Their son:

KING AEGON, the First / Sixth of his name, _Titled by Visenya Targaryen in 10 AC as Dragon Reborn and King in the Shadows_ , hidden by his uncle since the end of 282 AC under the name of Jon Snow, who died in the fifth moon of 297 AC, on the day of his 15 (37) birthday *

PRINCE VISERYS, it is also self-styled as the Third of his name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, _called the Beggar King_ , is 20/21 years old

PRINCESS DAENERYS, named Daenerys _Stormborn_ , of Almost 14-year-old maiden.

* Revived through a fire and blood magic ritual performed by Visenya Targaryen in the Dragonstone Caves in 10 BC

** Andrew comes to be the SUPER EXTRA of the series, who has more dedication to GoT than many of those who were in charge of making it ... ehem ... D&D

*** Supposedly deceased

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon is going to be a couple of OOC chapters, which will later be understood why from his POV AEGON V  
> The whitewashed version of house Stark that is shown in the series, or from the vision that can be given off of it only from POV Eddard's in the books, it's not going to be the one I show here.  
> Eddard Stark was educated and raised in the Vale by Jon Arryn, whose house words are 'As High as Honor' being used as a political puppet in Rickard / Maester Wyllas / Jon Arryn / Hoster Tully / Robert's Game of Thrones. They instilled in him a vision of life where they fitted him with a concept of honor that was not really honor if not, acts based on oaths ... The SS had as their motto our Honor is our Loyalty, also based on oaths and I assure you that if You read letters of SS men from concentration camps, with twentieth-century mentalities, not medieval,They were just as convinced of doing the right thing as Ned can be with his life choices / decisions (AND PLEASE NOBODY THINK I'M APOLOGYING / COMPARING A CRIMINAL ORGANIZATION that has committed some of the greatest atrocities in human history, with the Starks / Ned / Something from ASOIAF, I'm just trying to explain that depending on the context and how you are educated, honor can mean different things)  
> Jon is a name given by Eddard in honor of Jon Arryn. If there is something that doesn't quite convince / like me about the fictions in which Jon is not raised by Ned, it is that they keep calling him Jon. In my opinion, Jon's name is part of the identity theft carried out by Ned, something that I disgust quite a bit, since as I believe, Jon Arryn was one of the instigators of the Anti-Targaryen conspiracy (Let's remember Jon Arryn had no problem marrying and marrying a 13-year-old girl. He had no problem promoting a pimp like Littlefinger. He had no problem with Robert ruling the way he ruled. He had no problem with the Elia, Baby Aegon and Rhaenys affair. You can say his heir Elbert Arryn dies at the hand of the madness of Aerys, yes, but this was his nephew, not his son, and he was a few years older than of a children ... I repeat,in books we see things from the POV of people. In Cersei's POV she sees that everything she does is wonderful ... I don't even go to real mentalities, but examples in the book series itself, how you can see the same thing from different prisms)  
> I really admire the house Stark, but the real house Stark. I even have some respect for Ned's father, Lord Rickard. But especially I admire those who in my opinion were true Starks, like Cregan, Theon, Jon, or Brandon the Breaker to give a few examples. It is a great feudal house that has survived 8,300 years thanks to knowing how to be unforgiving, hard and cold. Tywin with Castamere was a common practice of House Stark during practically the entire Age of Heroes until almost the conquest.  
> Having a word, which is what the Stark house is really known for, is not being goodies like the Hobbits
> 
> There is no sin-free house in Westeros, nor are there any without honorable exceptions (Glendon Ball is an example that comes to mind) There will be nothing in black or white here, there will be character decisions that are more than agreement, others less. As the one who wrote it, I do not have to agree with the decisions they make, nor share them. Just because there is going to be a Targaryen Restoration at the end of it does not mean that the Targaryens are going to be perfect. My example of a main fantasy character is and will always be Turin Turambar and if there is a dark and shady character in Tolkien's world it is him.
> 
> Next chapter will be double POV Tyrion I and Arya


	8. Tyrion I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Imp of Dragonflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until this chapter, the ficc has already been edited and corrected to the best of my English. From now on, instead of correcting them once published, I will publish them only after having corrected them (The first two chapters especially, had a huge amount of problems regarding personal pronouns, which made reading / understanding difficult. Also some terms that the translator decided to translate from the original ficc that were in English, to another term in English)
> 
> Thank you very much for the response that the translated version is getting and for your comments. It encourages a lot to continue both the fiction itself, as well as the translation
> 
> P.S; In the original version, this chapter had been made a double one, but as I plan to do in the original in Spanish, I have separated Tyrion I and Arya I

**Last moon of 297AC Kings Landing, Blackwater Rush**

_"It all goes back and back. To our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance on in our steads."_ ASoS, Tyrion IX

* * *

Tyrion Lannister looked up from his books and shuddered. Although the room where he had stacked his books and scrolls was comfortable and welcoming, the sudden appearance of his squire startled him. His legs were stiff and sore when he got up from the chair.

"Your outfit, my Lord" the boy murmured as he entered, looking at his boots. ' _Even when he works up the courage to speak, Pod can never look people in the eye, let alone mine unevenly gaze'_

Throwing him a questioning look , followed by silence, Podrick Payne understood that Tyrion expected to know the reason why he had been disturbed at dawn. "Lord Arryn has called has called the small council to a meeting urgently and your presence is requested, My lord."

"Very good. Help me get dressed."

Tyrion dressed in the semi-darkness thrown by the first rays of sunlight of the day penetrating through the window of his rooms. He was being helped by his squire, while listening to the soft and deep breathing of his wife still asleep in the bed they both shared. ' _She's dreaming_ ' thought Tyrion, when Tysha muttered softly a name, perhaps, though it was too faint to hear it, and then she turned on her side.

' _Fortunately we haven't woken her up. Poor Pod if it turns out like that'_ Tyrion thought when he remembered how shy she had seemed when she lifted her dress above her head the first time they did so long ago. Her long dark hair, with eyes blue like the Lannisport sea in where one could drown in, and Tyrion did. Long time ago he drown in her. It cost him dear, but by the gods, he would do it again. ' _Also, it has put me in the songs on a par with Duncan Targaryen. Even if it's to make fun of me, I love the title of Imp of Dragonflies and the Jenny of the Rock. For her I would have given up a crown if I would have had to do so in order to be with her.'_

The doublet he was to wear for the occasion was black velvet covered with gold studs in the shape of lions' heads. It was accompanied by a cape of crimson silk with gold fringes, carved to his height. In a normal man, it would be no more than a half layer.

Before leaving, he took one last look at his wife who was asleep in the small rooms of both, which were above the _Queen_ _Ballroom_ of the _Maegor's Holdfast_. ' _I hope that when I come back from the meeting with those vultures I will have time to spend with her.'_ Tyrion thought, as he analyzed what awaited him.

Despite the fact that Tyrion had been disinherited by his marriage to his commoner wife, after all, as his Lord father kept reminding him, he was a Lannister and had a duty to the legacy of his house. In Tyrion's case, this legacy consisted of being a kind of link between his father and the _Crown,_ as well as being the person to whom the _Crown_ turned to borrow from the Lannister house. _'Really my only mission in life is to be a walking reminder so that Robert knows who he owes the money and the Throne'._ That is why Tyrion was now on his way to the _Small Council Chamber_ , to deal the information that had come to him from the Iron Bank.

Unfortunately for Tyrion, it was the death of the only person in his family who cared about him, which allowed him to have a position at court, and even keep the Lannister name after marrying Tysha. _'Although I sometimes would have loved to have Jaime in my life, the fact that he was the heir would have made my life more difficult even than it has been without him. Only Jaime's absence kept my father from completely disowning me from the family when I married Tysha. Who knows what would have happened to me with him still alive'_ Tyrion sighed as he began to walk the labyrinthine corridors of _Maegor's Holdfast._

As he walked down the winding stairs that led down to his destination, sometimes he could almost imagine hearing his bones grinding inside. _'Maybe I should see a maester, get some potion for pain.'_ But since Pycelle had revealed himself for what he was, a creature of Cersei and his father, Tyrion mistrusted the Maesters. _'The gods only know who they are conspiring with, or what they mix in those potions they give you.'_

The greatest consolation of his life in _Kings Landing_ with his wife, were Tyrion's niece and nephew. They had both grown apart from their mother for opposite reasons, and both had more appreciation for him than for Robert, their own father.

Myrcella, whose healthy birth and survival at six months was considered a miracle by masters and septons alike, became virtually ignored by Cersei since she had Orys. When the _crown prince_ born, he became the center of Tyrion's stupid sister's entire life. However, so much attention and overprotection, caused the opposite effect that Cersei intended on her son.

Instead of having a puppet for future King of Westeros, what his sister had, was a son who was more interested in fighting tournament melees and associating with the commoners of _Flea Bottom_ than getting involved in any ruling business. _'Seeing the null general interest that both have in Westerosi politics, no one can deny that they are father and son_ ' thought Tyrion when comparing father and son.

With the exception of his father's vices, Orys was a small version of Robert, but without the point of fury that sometimes invaded the King. Orys is tall and very muscular, with deep blue eyes and thick black hair, albeit with Cersei's cheekbones. He inherited stubbornness from his mother, being immovable in his decisions when he makes one. ' _And if there is something clear my nephew has, is that_ _he hates politics and the very idea of being the heir.'_

Orys's personality often caused him to clash with his parents, especially when he turned to Robert to insist that _Cella_ would be a better _Queen_ than he _King_. Tyrion's nephew said that he was destined to collect the hammer's family heritage as a weapon to protect his older sister from whom he is extremely overprotective. Despite being brusque, stubborn and someimes arrogant, he could be charming and courteous, but if offended he can also be fierce and proud.

Myrcella for her part, is the _Realm's Delight._ Tyrion's niece had a shiny gold almost silver hair with curls, traditionally set in long back braids. His niece has bright emerald eyes with purple traces like those in Tyrion's right eye ' _She is proof that I am not the only Lannister with purple in the eyes, apart from green'_. An angelic creature, with her lean and toned body, that towers over him by almost three heads. _'Cella is one of the few people that I don't mind being looked at from above. It has always felt right.'_ thought Tyrion proud of his niece.

His niece had all the beauty of her mother Cersei, but nothing of her nature. _Cella_ is delicate, beautiful and courteous. Also she displayed courage, iron will, great intelligence, and a keen political mind. Sometimes you might think that there was nothing of Baratheon in her _'And from what my Aunt Genna always tells me, physically Cella is an improved version of my mother, Joanna Lannister.' _As if this were not enough, she has in her hand half of the lords present at the court. She has the ear of Robert and the support of the small folk of the city, who adored her for her charities and her concern for the orphans.

For these reasons, his hateful sister, Cersei, claimed to be looking with Robert for a second son to secure the line, but what she really wanted was a new toy that would allow her to gain power, because through Orys and Mycella she won't have any. _' Well, the first will give the power to his sister and the second would send Cersei to the Silent Sisters.' _thought Tyrion with a certain glee, knowing that his sister was not very misguided when it came to thinking about the fate that awaited her if the situation did not change radically.

As he reached the _Council Chamber_ , Tyrion began to ponder with whom he was going to meet now. _The Hand of the King_ , Jon Arryn seemed to be thrilled with life being the second most powerful man in Westeros. He was a good man, but he had a tendency to look away at what he didn't want to see. In addition, he always looked over his shoulder at his wife Tysha, as if she were an insignificant insect that did not paint anything walking around the _Red Keep_ . The _Hand's_ wife _,_ Lysa Arryn, was even worse. No matter how many turns Tyrion gave her, he could never understand what he had done to that woman. Not only was she openly hostile towards him and Tysha, but sometimes she was even hostile toward her husband, Lord Hand. ' _The only plausible explanation I can find for her, is that she is mad. What other reason is there for her to continue breastfeeding a seven-days of the name boy? '_

The one who Tyrion knew for sure that would not be present was Stannis, who had not returned to _Kings Landing_ for almost half a year, preferring to conduct his business as a _Master of Ships_ from his seat in Dragonstone. Surely there would be Renly, the younger brother of the Baratheon. His position as Master of Laws forced him to be present in the city, in addition to enjoying _Glamor_ and courtly games. Along with Jon Arryn and Renly, Ser Barristan would also be present as usual, as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

' _To this ones, you must add the ineffable Baelish and the eunuch spider Varys'_ Tyrion tought as he let out a long sigh, approaching what could await him.

* * *

In the cool white dress of the Kingsguard, Ser Mandon Moore looked like a corpse in a shroud. Without moving a muscle in his expressionless face, he opened the door for Tyrion, giving way to the _Council Chamber._ Tyrion walked through the door with all the resolve he could muster, he stood to his full extent, trying to feel tall instead of shrinking in himself, at seeing those who were waiting for him.

Six members of the king's small council and the King himself, his brother-in-law Robert Baratheon were present. It was the King, to Tyrion's present surprise, who broke up the argument in which they were immersed. At the sudden attention to his person, trying to appear casual and confident, Tyrion paused to admire the pair of Valyrian Sphinxes guarding the gateway to the _Council Chamber_. ' _Baelish and Varys can smell weakness the same way a dog smells fear.'_

"What does The _small Lannister do_ at a _small_ council meeting?" Renly Baratheon suddenly broke the silence, asking mockingly.

"I have called him, to deliver something that was given to him yesterday, is it not Lord Tyrion?" Lord Arryn intervened in a slow and calm voice.

"Indeed _Lord Hand_. I have a scroll _from the Iron Bank,_ delivered to me yesterday by their newly arrived representative in _Westeros,_ expressly to hand-deliver to you." He went to the table and placed the tight parchment before them.

The Eunuch Varys took the scroll and held it in his delicate powder-coated hands. "What kind of affair does the _Iron Bank_ has with House Lannister's financial advisor? His scale wax is such a lovely shade of gold and black." Varys said singly as he inspected the sealed seal. "It gives every appearance of being genuine."

"Of course it is genuine." Lord Jon Arryn quickly took it from the hands of the _spider_ , and broke the sealing wax, unrolling the parchment.

Tyrion watched the _Hand of the King_ read and his face wrinkling. _'If it says the same thing the envoy from the Iron Bank said to me, of course old Arryn is not going to like it. However, I think my father will be fascinated that Crown is to become even more indebted to him.'_

Old Arryn began to read the letter in a monotonous and ominous voice to inform everyone present of its contents. 

> _“The new management of the Iron Bank has taken a new direction in its economic guidelines. These will be oriented not only in pursuit of a greater benefit for our institution and its clients, but will have the purpose of creating a commercial area in the Free Cities and Essos. This new commercial area must operate businesses and industries based on the interest of the new bank management, in order to achieve greater benefits from the exchange of merchandise and products._
> 
> _As the new management only sees debt and default in Westeros, and since the time of Aerys Targaryen the second of its name, the payment of the credits of the Crown is not frequent, the new direction sees no recourse other than demanding the immediate payment of the loans that the Crown has assumed with the Iron Bank. In turn, any credit relationship with the Crown or any house in Westeros will cease immediately._
> 
> _The latter could only be avoided in two ways:_
> 
> _- The Crown will undertake to pay the three million in gold dragons that it has as a debt within a maximum period of twelve moons and will not be able to request more credits until the new direction considers it appropriate for the business, even if the debt becomes satisfied._
> 
> _- The Lannister house, as the main investor of the Crown, will fully assume the debt of this with the Iron Bank, owing three million and the impossibility of carrying out any credit operation with our institution or others related to ours, until payment of the same._
> 
> _Noho Dimittis, special representative of the Iron Bank ”_ concluded the _Hand of the King_ with a downcast voice.

"What does this mean Jon?!!" Asked a confused Robert.

"That do we have to pay immediately the three million debt we have with them or the _Kingdoms_ will be in bankrupt. Is this Lord Baelish?" Jon Arryn claimed more than asked as he cast a censorious look on the man he had promoted.

“Indeed my _Lord Hand._ I see that you are aware of the dramatic situation of the royal treasury "said the little man in a bombastic way "The _Crown_ has a total debt of six million dragons, therefore one way or another, it takes nine million dragons to suddenly appear" Baelish finished the financial situation report ironically and with a shrug.

"Do your magic, Baelish" Robert exclaimed, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the direction the _Small Council_ meeting was taking.

' _It seems that Jon Arryn wanted Robert to find out directly about the dramatic impact that this action of the Iron Bank can have on his reign'_ At last, Tyrion understood the presence of his brother-in-law at a meeting to which he had been summoned.

"Oh! Your grace, you don't know how flattering I am that you think I do magic, but I'm only good at reading ledgers.” said Baelish with false modesty and a casual gesture. "And they tell me that except in the event that his esteemed father-in-law Tywin Lannister assumes our debt, we have no other option but to be grateful that the only retaliation for not paying the _Iron Bank_ of Braavos is not being able to ask for a loan again... Generally from one one way or another they always win, so it is strange that there is no greater threat behind the demand for payment of the debt” said Baelish.

 _'_ _Greater retaliation than it already threatens to take. Either Baelish underestimates the effect that it could have on the Crown and the great houses to stop receiving credits from the Iron Bank ... Or on the contrary, he is interested in plunging Westeros into ruin'_ Tyrion thought as he watched how the _essosi_ eunuch like a maester, pulled out of one of his wide sleeves a small scroll rolled up before anyone could intervene.

 _The Spider_ seemed to have information to explain the reason for the absence of retaliation from _the Iron Bank_ in the event that its debt was not paid. “The whispers of my little birds in _Essos_ tell me that the _Iron Bank_ is surely claiming the debts from its clients to dispose of cash treasure in the event that Volantis, despite being currently ruled by the Elephants, tries something on the _Three Whores._ That is why the _Golden Company_ is stationed in Volontherys. " intoned Varys with a shudder.

“Surely the _Iron Bank_ is accumulating gold to finance new wars in _Essos_ that allow they to have greater control in the shadows over the _Free Cities_ and trade with the Slaver's Bay. That is why it is rumored that they plan to finance the enemies of Volantis. A Volantis owning Tyrosh, Myr and Lys would not be in the _best interests_ of _the Iron Bank at all_ ” Varys said with a crafty smile.

However, it seemed that _The Spider_ had not finished telling everything he knew about the _Iron Bank_ , as he was still staring at the _Lord Hand_ , with the face of guarding something else.

"Lord Varys, what else do you want to say?" Said Lord Jon Arryn impatiently.

The master of whispers looked at Robert and then at Lord Arryn, half laughing, to tell them "On the other hand, the most incredible rumors have reached me, to which I have not given any credibility ..." Varys now laughed like a little girl.

"What are those rumors Varys?! Talk about a goddamn time without riddles by all the gods!" Robert abruptly cut in impatiently and imperatively

"One of my little birds some moons ago, told me one of the most unlikely rumors that I had heard in my life. And until the arrival of this letter from _the Iron Bank I_ had given it no credibility or importance ... that's why I did not share it with the council" Varys said in a tone with a false apology and with an exaggerated bow to Lord Arryn and his brother-in-law Robert.

The King was beginning to despair by the ways of relating what Varys intended. Without stopping drumming his fingers on the huge ebony table and with a tone that seemed close to the end of his patience, Robert urged the master of whispers to finish what he wanted to say aggressively. "Come on, eunuch, stop all the false courtesy and tell me what you want to tell me once and for all, no matter how crazy the damn rumor that has reached you" demanded a now exasperated Robert Baratheon.

It seemed that this was what Varys wanted, an enraged Robert to receive the news he was going to transmit. Varys smiled and the warmth of his smile for once seemed to reach his eyes

“My little bird told me the story that about four moons ago, three gigantic dragons landed in Braavos, first razing the _House of Black & White_, and then perching on the square in front of _the Iron Bank_ building. From the dragons they say that descended two men, a woman, a boy and a girl. Both men had silver hair ... and the boy carried a double banner. One of his sigils were the red rampant dragon with three heads on a black background of house Targaryen, while the other was a white rampant dragon, with a single head, giving off a red flame, all on a black background." Varys finished informing them in a melodious and singsong way, while showing a half smile.

Robert's reaction was to get up from his seat and hit the table so hard with his two hands that he could have split it had it been less thick. “Targaryen??? !!!!! It is impossible!! All the damn dragonspawn are dead !! Only the crazy stupid Viserys Targaryen and her sister remain! I myself took the life of the seven-time damn Rhaegar Targaryen!!" the violence in his brother-in-law's tone and body attitude made Tyron flinch. _'If he now imposes that fear being a fat whoremonger and a drunken man, what he must have been in the Trident ... Without a doubt a Demon'_

Tyrion wasn't the only one who flinched at Robert's sudden outburst of fury. Pycelle seemed to wake up from his slumber with a start, while at the mention of the late crown prince, Barristan made an almost imperceptible grimace of disgust, before showing his stoic traditional facade again. For his part, Renly had put on a half smile that could mean anything, now that he seemed to be interested in the directions the council was taking, only by the reaction Robert had just had. Jon Arryn had a disgusted and tired face at the reaction of his king, so the Lord Hand decided to intervene to put sanity.

"Robert calm down. That must be gossip. We both know that there is only one male Targaryen left to be, and that is Viserys." said the old Lord of Vale in a way that seemed to be teaching his former ward once more in his life.

"Your grace if you will allow me one thing ..." _The_ Spider interrupted, smiling smugly. When Robert nodded, Varys continued “We all know that the only people capable of taming a dragon are those with Targaryen blood. To the delight of everyone present, one of my little birds has told me that the two surviving Targaryens are still in Pentos, where Viserys plans to marry his sister to a _Khal_ of the Dothraki, in exchange for helping him invade Westeros…" said Varys velvetly, in what seemed like an attempt to fan the flames of hatred towards the Targaryen house inside Robert.

 _'Then my inept sister calls me a kinslayer, when I couldn't do anything to avoid mother's fate. Robert, on the other hand, is king, and seems to want to exterminate his own grandmother's family, although said family currently does not even pose a real danger.'_ thought Tyrion bitterly, seeing how Robert turned practically purple and all the veins of his neck and his forehead swelled.

“Jon, something has to be done !! I've always told you!! Damn the gods !! Now they are under the power of that cheesemonger of Pentos, protected by walls and those damned eunuchs with pointed helmets” the king's mouth twisted into a bitter grin, his voice between furious and defeated.

“The matter seems quite simple to me. We should have killed Viserys and his sister years ago, but His Grace seems to prefer to listen to Lord Hand's _advice_ , than those given by his own brother.” Lord Renly shrugged, glaring at Jon Arryn, while detaching disgust in his tone.

"Daenerys Targaryen is a girl. She can marry a Dothraki lord or the stranger himself if she wants to. What about that? We don't even know if it's safe that she's going to marry anyone ... just a rumor come from across the _Narrow Sea_. Lastly, even if the rumor is true, if these savages are known for anything, it's for not getting on ships ... not to mention that I doubt a _Khal_ of a Dothraki horde would pay any attention to Viserys. Should we send her a wedding present if they get married?" asked Lord Arryn with a frown.

"This child will soon spread her legs and start spawning more _dragon spawn_ to plague my reign and that of my son." Robert's mouth hardened as did his jaw and neck, where his veins marked it. The king frowned, then scowled and continued his tirade. "A knife, perhaps. A sharp one, and a bold man to wield it." Robert finished bitterly.

Before Jon Arryn could reply anything to Robert, Baelish nodded his head to speak, which Robert consented with a wave of his hand, calmer now and back in his seat. "One of the most incredible rumors I have ever heard has also reached me" interrupted Lord Petyr, stifling a yawn. "Almost five moons ago, some rumors concerning the _North_ that I thought were impossible came to me, but maybe are related to what does _our dear friend The Spider has said._ "said Baelish with a half smile, but stopping in his explanation.

"Yes, Baelish, continue" said Robert imperatively and without patience.

"Remember what happened at Winterfell six moons ago? Apparently according to one of my sources, it was the product of the fury of three gigantic dragons that appeared out of nowhere, reducing the _First Keep_ and the _Crypts of the Winter Kings_ to rubble _._ After that, the dragons vanished just as quickly as they arrived…but my source also mentioned that _certain ghosts had risen from the Crypts…"_ said _Littlefinger_ with a sharp turn of his mouth, speaking in a way between melodious and mocking.

There was something about Baelish's ways that bothered Tryrion deeply. The man was too smart for his own good, with a mocking smile never far from his lips and the smug facade that he always knew something that others did not. If ever a man had truly shielded himself in gold, it was Petyr Baelish. Tyrion had learned a few things about sweet Petyr, to his growing unease. Ten years earlier, Jon Arryn had given him a minor sinecure at _Gulltown_ Customs, where Lord Petyr soon distinguished himself in financial _affairs_ , contributing three times more than any other King's tax collector. Because Robert is a prodigious spender, a man like Petyr Baelish, who has the gift of rubbing two golden dragons to breed a third, was incalculable to his _Hand_.

Littlefinger's rise had been quick as an arrow. Three years after his arrival at court, he was a _Master of the Coin_ and a member of the Small Council. _'And today the crown's income is ten times that of its beleaguered predecessor...'_ however the debts of the crown had also become enormous. A master juggler is what Petyr Baelish sometimes seemed to be. He didn't just collect the gold and lock it in a treasure vault, no. He paid the king's debts with more debts and put the gold that was in the treasury to work. He bought shops, boats and houses. He bought grain when it was abundant and sold bread when it was scarce. He bought wool from the north and linen from the south and lace from Lys, stored them, moved them, dyed them and sold them. The golden dragons bred and multiplied, and Littlefinger was lending them again.

Trying to judge the reactions to the rumors just mentioned by Baelish, Tyrion could see that Varys's face was the most expressive he had seen since met him, showing bewilderment, but not surprise at the news. ' _Something the Spider must know or sense about what happened in Winterfell but he is not able to know exactly what happened there.'  
_

"Gossip!!" Pycelle suddenly exclaimed. “The Citadel and _Winterfell's Maester himself_ agree that the incident was the product at the momentary awakening of one of the _Flames of the World_ below where _Winterfell_ was built _._ In fact, it has even served to explain the origin of the castle's hot springs…” the _Grand Maester_ practically stammered.

"And good funds that _the good Lord_ Stark requested from the _Crown_ for the repairs of his castle" replied the Master of the Coin with some reproach to the Maester.

"Less than the cost of one of the tournaments that my brother-in-law, _His Grace_ , likes so much, isn't that right Baelish?" Tyrion interrupted for the first time since handing over the _Iron Bank_ scroll to the _Lord Hand,_ giving Littlefinger a cold, contemptuous look.

The amount that Lord Eddard Stark had requested from the _Crown_ was insignificant, barely 20,000 gold dragons. ' _The prize of a winner of any tournament melee. And yet Baelish has more problems with that disbursement than when Robert badly spends in tournaments ... He's certainly marked by his duel against Brandon Stark'_ Tyrion thought as he saw the uncomfortable reaction of the pimp promoted to _Master of the Coin_ , who was about to reply.

Robert nonetheless settled the discussion with a deep voice that echoed throughout the _Small Council Chamber._ “My brother-in-law Tyrion may have disrespected me with his comment, but he's right. Ned would never lie to me, nor would steal money to the Crown! _"_ It seemed that _Littlefinger's_ distrust of Eddard Stark had suddenly made him the object of his brother-in-law's fury. Therefore, Tyrion took the opportunity to also put Varys in his place and earn Robert's esteem. ' _Maybe I leave this council in a better position than I was.'_

"Besides" Tyrion interrupted when he saw the occasion of his life to show that his knowledge about dragons was still of some use "Dragons capable of destroying buildings would have taken years to grow to such a size. Sooner or later we would have heard some rumors Surely this rumor that has reached _our beloved_ _Master of Whispers_ , is one created by the _Iron Bank_ itself…" He said looking at Varys with a raised eyebrow and some arrogance for being able to read what was happening better than the Spider.

“Knowing the esteem that _his grace_ has towards the Targaryen family, they would think that their sudden appearance would be reason enough for the _westerosi_ intervention in _Essos_ sooner or later. This would end up redounding in aid for a future war against Volantis for which the _Iron Throne would_ need to ask for a credit _from the Iron Bank_..." Tyrion suggested boldly as he shrugged his shoulders in the direction of his brother-in-law, spreading his arms and palms, with his hands forward. “Because at the end of the day, if Volantis wants the _Disputed Lands_ as well as the _Three Whores_ , and ends up succeeding, their next logical step would be the _Stepstones_ , leading to the inevitable clash with us _…_ in the long run the _Iron Bank_ would have managed to get money out of everyone involved in a war that they may be making behind the scenes in _Essos_ , hardly staining their hands. Through the debts contracted with them, they simply have to guide the different factions that are formed in the Free and slaver's cities, so that they end up doing what the _Iron Bank_ really wants them to do." Smiling, Tyrion fixed Jon Arryn with his odd gaze.

“Wars cost money _Lord Hand_ , therefore, if the _Crown were to_ intervene in _Essos, it_ would force us to go into debt more than we are now, at the precise moment that we would have paid our current debt with them and we would get in credit troubles again. In this way the _Iron Bank_ would end up making us completely dependent economically on them, granting the _braavosis_ with the virtual government of Westeros in the proces...” Tyrion said, seeing how behind all the tensions in _Essos_ without a doubt was the supposed new management of the _Iron Bank_ , which now intended to plunge Westeros into the same situation, making everyone dependent on them. Grand Maester Pycelle stroked his flowing white beard and nodded heavily.

' _By all the gods, it's the best plan to dominate all of Essos and Westeros without even using an army. Create the need for everyone to need coin from the Iron Bank at the precise time when they deny coin to everyone, causing that in the long run the need to resort to them is even greater and there, they will get what ever they ask for.'  
_

“Your Grace, your brother-in-law is right on this.” Petyr Baelish raised his hands as he linked his index fingers. “If we try to deny the rumors of this conversation, we would only favor the _Iron Bank_ ploy. Better to treat them with contempt, for the pathetic lie that they are." Baelish said, who had quickly forgotten about his personal concern with Lord Stark, and was now staring at Varys.

"Economically, if we raise some taxes and make some cuts, along with some help from the Lannister house, I'm sure that within a year we will have enough creditworthiness to pay the debt." For the first time in his life, Tyrion saw a smile of Baelish that reached his eyes. _'By all the gods, what is he plotting to do, to get that kind of money?'_

“The logic in Lord Tyrion's explanations is far more compelling than rumors of the sudden appearance of _Dragons and Targaryen_. Still, we are in dire financial straits that can threaten to financially cripple us. We would not have funds to pay armies, food, supplies, _The Gold Cloaks.._. The _Crown_ would lose its direct power over the its domains, allowing large and medium lords who have great capacity to obtain resources on their lands, impose their own laws on them. For example, what would prevent Dorne from breaking with the _Seven Kingdoms_ if the _Crown is_ unable to have more financial power than the Martell family?" Lord Arryn asked to the King directly.

"But Jon, what about the Targaryens? The girl must die sooner or later…” Robert tried to interfere with a voice of disgust, but some resignation.

"Your grace, right now we have more urgent needs than to spend funds that we do not have in murder someone who does not suppose, nor will ever suppose, a threat" sentenced Lord Arryn implying, that at least for that day, the fate of theTargaryen girl was still far from crossing Robert's.

The King got up so abruptly that the chair fell over, after which he bolted for the door like a child throwing a tantrum. Before leaving the _Small Council_ _Chamber_ , the _King_ addressed his _Hand_ with a tone that did not admit arguments.

“Jon from now on I want Tyrion to attend each council meeting and personally oversee the _Kingdoms_ treasury. Baelish, you will give him all the ledgers you have, and between the two, you have to find a damn way for the _Crown_ to survive without the seven times damn _Iron Bank._ Pycelle, send your faster raven to Casterly Rock and summon Lord Tywin. He and I have a debt to renegotiate.” Without further ado Robert turned and walked out the door of the _Small Council Chamber_ with Ser Barristan following in his footsteps.

"His grace" intoned everyone present. Renly, Pycelle, and Varys were already retiring when Jon Arryn addressed Tyrion and _Littlefinger_ directly. “Lord Baelish, you've already heard the King. I hope you provide Lord Tyrion with the _Crown's_ account books. Lord Tyrion, for your part, I hope you understand that even if you are going to attend the meetings of the _small council_ , you will not be part of it. Is this acceptable to you, my lord? "

“Not only is it acceptable, it is an honor, my _lord Hand._ _I will do my best to facilitate the decision-making of those who can make them."_ Tyrion replied fiercely and smiling. ' _Arryn will certainly understand who I am referring to by what I just said_.'

The _Hand of the King_ stared into space for a moment from his chair at the table, until he came out of his sudden stupor and with a tired gesture, definitively closed the session of the _Small Council._

After the grueling meeting _,_ Tyrion left with more doubts in his head than that dawn when he was summoned. But if something was clear to him, it was that something was happening in _Essos_ and that he would have a lot of work ahead of him if he wanted to raise three million dragons.

* * *

* * *

**Bonus Track2 **

**Baratheon House**

KING ROBERT BARATHEON 35 born in 262 AC , the first of his name,  
his wife, Queen CERSEI 31 born in 266AC, of house Lannister ,  
their children:

PRINCESS MYRCELLA, a 13-year-old girl, born at seven months of pregnancy at the end of 283 AC

CROWN PRINCE ORYS, heir to the iron throne, 12 years  
his brothers:  
STANNIS BARATHEON 33 born in 264 AC, lord of Dragonstone  
his wife, LADY SELYSE of the Florent house,  
their daughter, SHIREEN, a girl of nine years, born in 289 AC,  
RENLY BARATHEON, 20 born in 277 AC, Lord of Storm's End  
his little one advice:

LORD JON ARRYN 77 born in 220 AC, Guardian and Protector of the Vale, hand of the King  
GRAND MASTER PYCELLE,  
LORD PETYR BAELISH 29 born in 268 AC, called LITTLEFINGER (Little finger), master of coin,  
LORD STANNIS BARATHEON, master of ships,  
LORD RENLY BARATHEON, master of laws,  
SER BARRISTAN SELMY, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard,  
VARYS, an Essosi eunuch, called the spider, master of whispers,

LORD TYRION LANNISTER 24 born in 273 AC, economic counselor of house Lannister at court, younger brother of the Queen and brother-in-law of the King  
His court and servants:  
SER ILYN PAYNE, the king's justice,  
SANDOR CLEGANE, called THE HOUND, sworn shield to Prince Orys ,  
JANOS SLYNT, a commoner son of a butcher, commander of the _Golden Cloaks_ of Kings Landing,  
JALABHAR XHO, an exiled prince of the summer isles,  
MOON BOY, a buffoon and fool,  
LANCEL and TYREK LANNISTER, squires to the king, the Cousins to the Queen, the first is heir to Casterly Rock,  
SER DAVEN LANNISTER, Master of Arms of the Red Keep,  
his Kingsguard  
SER BARRISTAN SELMY, Lord Commander,  
SER ARON SANTGAR,  
SER BOROS BLOUNT,  
SER MERYN TRANT,  
SER ARYS OAKHEART,  
SER PRESTON GREENFIELD,  
SER MANDON MOORE.

The main houses sworn up to Storm's End are Selmy, Wylde, Trant, Penrose, Errol, Estermont, Tarth, Swann, Dondarrion, and Caron.  
  
The main houses sworn in to Dragonstone are Celtigar, Velaryon, Bar Emmon and Sunglass.

** Lannisiter House **

TYWIN LANNISTER born in 242 AC, 55, Lord of Casterly Rock, Guardian of the West, Shield of Lannisport,  
  
his wife, {LADY JOANNA} his cousin, died in the child birth,  
their children:  
{SER JAIME} 16 born in 266 AC, called The _Kingslayer or The Princess Protector_, Cersei's twin. Supposedly deceased by wildfire in 282AC during the sack of Kings Landing, while defending Princess Rhaenys Targaryen from Amory Lorch *  
QUEEN CERSEI, wife of King Robert I Baratheon, Jaime's twin,  
TYRION, called the Imp, a dwarf, Economic Counselor of house Lannister in the small council  
his brothers  
SER KEVAN, his older brother,  
his wife, DORNA of the Swyft house,  
his eldest son, LANCEL Heir to Casterly Rock and squire to the king,  
his twin sons, WILLEM and MARTYN,  
his little daughter, Janei,  
GENNA, his sister, married Ser Emmon Frey,  
his son, SER CLEOS FREY,  
his son, Tion FREY, a squire,  
{SER TYGETT}, his second brother, died of smallpox,  
his widow, DARLESSA, of the Marbrand house,  
his son, TYREK, the king's squire,  
{GERION}, his younger brother, supposedly lost in the sea *  
her bastard daughter, JOY, a ten-year-old girl,  
her cousin, SER STAFFORD LANNISTER, brother of the late Lady Joanna,  
His daughters, CERENNA and MYRIELLE,  
His son, SER DAVEN LANNISTER, Master of Arms of the Red Keep  
His advisor, MAESTER CREYLEN,  
His chief knights and lords vassals:  
LORD LEO LEFFORD,  
SER ADDAM MARBRAND,  
SER GREGOR CLEGANE, the mountain that rides,  
SER HARYS SWYFT, father by marriage to Ser Kevan,  
LORD ANDROS BRAX,  
SER FORTER PRESTER,  
  
The principal houses sworn to Casterly Rock are Payne, Swyft, Marbrand, Lydden, Banefort, Lefford, Crakehall, Serrett, Broom, Clegane, Prester and Westerling .

**Arryn House **

JON ARRYN, Lord of the Eyrie, Defender of the Valley, Guardian of the East, Hand of the King  
his first wife, {LADY JEYNE, of House Royce}, died in childbirth, his daughter was stillborn,  
his second wife, {LADY ROWENA} , of House Arryn, his cousin, died of a winter cold, no children,  
his third wife, LADY LYSA, of House Tully,  
his son:  
ROBERT ARRYN, a sickly seven-year-old boy, heir to the Vale,  
his servants and home retinue  
MAESTER colemon, counselor, healer and tutor Robert Arryn in King's Landing  
Ser Vardis EGEN, captain of the guard of the Lord Hand in King's Landing,  
Ser Brynden TULLY, called the Blackfish, Knight of Blood's Gates and uncle of Lady Lysa,  
Lord NESTOR ROYCE, High Commissioner of the Valley,  
SER ALBAR ROYCE, his son,  
MYA STONE, a bastard child of King Robert in your service,  
Lord EON HUNTER,  
SER LYN CORBRAY,  
MYCHEL REDFORT, his squire,  
MRS ANYA WAYNWOOD, a widow,  
SER MORTON WAYNWOOD, his son,  
SER DONNEL WAYNWOOD, his son,  
MORD, a brutal jailer,

The main houses sworn in to the Eyrie are Royce, Baelish, Egen, Waynwood, Hunter, Redfort, Corbray, Belmore, Melcolm and Hersy.

**Tully House**

HOSTER TULLY, Lord of Riverrun,  
his wife, {LADY MINISA, of the Whent house}, died in the child's bed,  
her children:  
CATELYN, eldest daughter, married Lord Eddard Stark (marriage currently annulled, though not known beyond Winterfell this fact)  
LYSA, the youngest daughter, married Lord Jon Arryn,  
SER EDMURE, heir to Riverrun,  
his brother SER BRYNDEN, called the Blackfish  
his servants and home retinue  
MAESTER VYMAN, counselor, healer and guardian,  
SER DESMOND GRELL , Master of Arms,  
SER ROBIN RYGER, Captain of the Guard,  
UTHERYDES WAYN, Steward of Riverrun,  
his knights and vassal lords:  
JASON MALLISTER, Lord of Seagard,  
PATREK MALLISTER, his son and heir,  
WALDER FREY, Lord of the Cross,  
His many sons, grandsons and bastards.  
JONOS BRACKEN, Lord of the Stonehedge,  
TYTOS BLACKWOOD, Lord of Raventree,  
SER RAYMUN DARRY, Lord of Darry,  
SER KARYL VANCE, heir to Wayfarer's Rest,  
SER MARQ PIPER, heir of Lord Clement Piper,  
SHELLA WHENT, Lady of Harrenhal,  
SER WILLIS WODE, a Knight at her service.  
  
Houses that have been sworn in to Riverrun include Darry, Frey, Mallister, Bracken, Blackwood, Whent, Ryger, Piper, and Vance.

 **House Tyrell**  
  
MACE TYRELL, Lord of Highgarden, Warden of the South, Defender of the Marches, High Marshal of the _Reach_ ,  
his wife, LADY ALERIE, of House Hightower of Oldtown,  
their children:  
WILLAS, their eldest son, heir to Highgarden,  
GARLAN, called the gallant, his second son,  
SER LORAS, the knight of flowers, his youngest son, squire to Renly Baratheon,  
MARGAERY 14 born in 283 AC, his daughter, a fourteen-year-old maiden,  
his widowed mother, LADY OLENNA, of House Redwyne, called the Queen of the Thorns,  
her sisters:  
MINA, married to Lord Paxter Redwyne,  
JANNA, married to Ser Jon Fossoway,  
his uncles  
GARTH, called the Fat Man, Lord Seneschal of High Garden,  
His bastard sons, GARSE and GARRETT FLOWERS,  
SER MORYN, Lord Commander of the Oldtown City  
Guard, MAESTER GORMON, a scholar of the Citadel,  
his house  
MAESTER LOMYS, councilor , Healer and Guardian,  
IGON VYRWEL, Captain of the Guard,  
SER VORTIMER CRANE, Master of Arms,  
His Knights and Lords:

PAXTER REDWYNE, Lord of the Arbor,  
his wife, LADY MINA, of House Tyrell,  
their children:  
SER HORAS , twin of Hobber,  
SER HOBBER, twin of Horas,  
Desmera, a fifteen-year-old maiden,  
RANDYLL TARLY, Lord of Horn Hill,  
SAMWELL, his eldest son, on the way to swear the vows of the Night's Watch,  
DICKON, his youngest son, heir to Horn Hill,  
ARWYN OAKHEART, Lady of Old Oak,  
MATHIS ROWAN, Lord of Goldengrove,  
LEYTON HIGHTOWER, Voice of Oldtown, Lord of the Arbor,  
SER JON FOSSOWAY.

The main houses that swear to High Garden are Vyrwel, Florent, Oakheart, Hightower, Crane, Tarly, Redwyne, Rowan, Fossoway, and Mullendore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter there are two timelines, so to speak. Bran, Jon, Rhaegar, Arya and Lyanna (All of them POV) are going to show everything that happens from the day of Jon's name onwards, specifying in their chapters how much time has passed since then (it is a milestone for each of the characters for one thing or another, therefore they take it as a time stamp)  
> All the other POVs from now on (Tyrion, Eddard and the four more that remain to be incorporated) will have their line already in canon timeline, at minimun 3 months after Jon's name day.  
> I do this specifically to show that in the 14th century, information was not instantaneous and not reliable (something which is also the case today by the way). That is, rumors / information from Braavos, reality will be seen when the "5 Targaryens" are in Braavos. The info arrives late to Kings Landing. I am counting that from Winterfell to KL there will be at least 5 weeks for information to arrive via land. The dragons have taken more than 48 hours from the Dragonstone volcano to Winterfell .... a raven would take 72. Therefore, even with the fastest medium of information, there is a three-day delay with information, between the north and the blackwater.  
> Tyrion is clever clever clever ... but he is unaware of certain players, so he is unable to fully understand Aejon's plan with the Iron Bank.  
> 


	9. Arya I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Princess

**Sixteenth day of the fifth moon of 297AC. Winterfell, North of  Westeros **

_"Ah, Arya. You have a wildness in you, child. The 'wolf blood,' my father used to call it. Lyanna had a touch of it, and my brother Brandon more than a touch. It brought them both to an early grave. Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it.You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her." AGoT_ , Arya II

* * *

Thanks to her mother's confinement and the strange situation that had happened in Winterfell two days ago, Arya was taking the opportunity to escape her lessons with Septa Mordane. Because her two brothers, her uncle, her aunt, and her father met every night from dusk to dawn at the Lord of Winterfell's stays, the daily control of the Castle had fallen to Sansa, with the help of Vayon Poole and Maester Luwin.

It didn't seem fair to her that Sansa had it all. Sansa was two years older, which perhaps was why when Arya was born, there was no talent left for her. Arya often felt like this. Sansa could sew and dance, sing and write poetry. His sister knew how to dress, besides playing the high harp and bells. Worse still, she was beautiful compared to Arya. Sansa had gotten her mother's high, thin cheekbones and the Tullys' thick auburn hair. Arya came out as her lord father, with hair that was dull brown, almost raven, having a long and solemn face. Jeyne used to call her _Arya Horseface_ , and whinnied every time she got close. It hurt that the only thing Arya could do better than her sister was to ride a horse. Well, that and managing a house. Sansa had never had much head for numbers and now she was paying for it. Fortunately for Aryas's sister, Aunt Lyanna was helping her, giving Sansa advice each night during the intimate dinner between the family only.

These last two days Arya missed the dinners in the Great Hall with all the servants and the people who inhabited or visited Winterfell. Arya's father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he expected to stay with them. ' _Meet the men who follow you_ , _and let them know you. Don't ask your men to die for a stranger'_ Arya heard her father say to Robb once. In Winterfell dinner hall, there was always an extra seat at their own table, and every day one man or another was asked to join them. One night it would be Vayon Poole, and the talk might be about accounting, grain storage, and servants. Next time it would be Mikken, and her father would listen to him talk about armor and swords, and how hot a forge should be and the best way to temper steel. Another day could be Hullen with his endless talk about horses, or the Septon Chayle about the library, or Jory, or Ser Rodrik, or even _Old Nan_ with her stories. There was nothing better for her than sitting at her father's table and listening to them talk. Arya also loved listening to the men on the benches too; To tough as leather _freeriders, Knights_ , young squires and grizzled old men. _Fat_ Tom used to call her _Arya_ _Underfoot,_ because he said that's where she always was. 'I _much preferred that, than Arya Horseface.'_ she thought.

Ever since Jon's _incident_ in the crypts, he, his father, and his mother have tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. They led a practically nocturnal life, which began before sunset and lasted until the time of the nightingale. They had been secluded in her Aunt Lyanna's old family rooms, where they had moved all their belongings, although they were already packed. _'Tomorrow Jon will go to the Wall and now, who knows until when we will meet again'_ .

It hurt to Arya soul, know that her brother Jon had to go. Not only him. Her _newfound_ aunt was Arya's ideal female role model, was also going with him. _'What I would give to be able to participate in a joust and dismount three knights.'_ Unfortunately Arya would have to stay in _Winterfell_ , missing out on all the adventures that Bran was to experience.

 _' Because that's the other !! He's going to be Jon and Rhaegar's squire !! Whereas I will have to stay here and go back to my lessons with the damn septa when my father returns to rule in the day to day.'_ just thinking about it made her sick. For this reason, before the last night meetings began in the _Lord's solar,_ Arya decided to go to her father's rooms, in order to convince him to let her go with Jon, her aunt and Bran.

When Arya came across Robb on the way to her destination, her brother had an unfriendly face and was talking to Theon, about how he couldn't accompany the _squid_ to Wintertown tonight, because their father required him to plan how to rebuild the _First Keep._ That was the official excuse that had been given to the _squid_ and all the servants in everything related to what happened the night the _First Keep_ evaporated, the secret nightly meetings of the last two days, the confinement of their mother and the sudden _disappearance_ of Jon.

' _If I were Jon, I wouldn't hide. I would show everyone who I am and who they have been despising all of this time.'_ But her lord father insisted that Arya's uncle's name could not even be mentioned and that her aunt Lyanna, who had shown herself more than Jon or Rhaegar those days, was a distant cousin from the Flint's of the mountains, the family of her paternal grandmother.

Her brother Robb , was not dealing well at all with the prevailing situation. Mother's betrayal of house Stark left him outraged with her, but at the same time Robb was hurt by Jon's decision. Arya could share the first feeling, but the second was difficult for her to understand _. 'If it was up to our mother, all the Targaryen children would have died in order to one day make Sansa Queen and raise her grandchildren to Kings. How_ _is it possible that she knew all the lies behind the kidnapping of Aunt Lyanna and never said anything? Didn't she care about the lives of others?'_ Arya thought bitterly, unable to put herself in her mother's position. ' _Robb should be thankful that Jon hadn't run through mother with Blackfyre. If she wasn't their mother, Jon would have taken a more drastic judgment. I'm sure of that._ _'_ Arya didn't really know why, but thinking about what her mother did, made her blood boil. Robb had been in a bad mood for two days and confused by the events that were happening. Especially tense were the moments when Robb and uncle Rhaegar interacted at the intimate family dinners. Arya's brother Robb seemed to be throwing daggers at her uncle and always answered in a dry, forced tone. Also, Robb used to look at aunt Lyanna with a face that was somewhere between curiosity and disbelief, but had hardly bothered to meet her, contrary to how Arya had done.

Her aunt, on the first morning of coming back from the dead, before going to rest, accompanied her to meet _Winter,_ what was it that Arya and her brothers had decided to call the mother of the litter of pups they all had. The huge _Direwolf,_ with blue-gray fur and the same eyes as her _Nymeria_ , had never been too attracted to people. She seemed to respect the Starks for having given her shelter when she went into labor, but beyond that she never had a relationship with one of them similar to the one they had with the pups. _'That was until it saw my aunt'_ when the two met in the kennels, it seemed like a magical moment ' _Or at least it seemed to me.'_

The huge she-wolf, generally passive-aggressive towards the visitors of the kennels, detected her aunt scent and shot out towards her. In turn, her aunt _Lya 'As my aunt said she had to be called by her favorite niece.'_ instead of being scared by the mythological creature, it seemed that she was meeting an old friend, not hesitating to hug the huge she-wolf as it approached. Instead of shunning human contact, or showing her teeth and growl, _Winter_ began to lick the face of aunt Lya, much to the delight of her aunt who couldn't stop laughing. From that moment _Winter_ left the kennels, to be the shadow of her Aunt Lya, coming to sleep with her, Jon, _Ghost_ and Rhaegar in Lya's old rooms.

When Arya arrived at her father Eddard Stark's rooms, his face reflected exhaustion that he could not hide from his night meetings. Arya could see in his face, that her father was not very happy about the _new family situation_ , according to what looked like a face of resignation engraved in stone, where before, sometimes other emotions and even a certain warm could be observed.

With a weary wave of his hand to the side of his bed where he was sitting, Arya's father motioned for her to sit beside him. When Arya did so, her father ran his hand through her hair and spoke to her in a voice that pretended to be warm, but sounded tired and somewhat defeated. "Hello Arya. What do you need ehm? You are respecting your sister Sansa in her rule of the castle, right?" her father's weary grin seemed to indicate that the last thing he wanted to know now, was new arguments between her and her sister Sansa. ' _Fortunately I have come for something else. One thing that will save him from worrying about the relationship between Sansa and me.'_ Arya thought as she made the biggest puppy eyes and the most tender face she was capable of make.

“Father you have to let me go with Jon. Bran is going with him, Sansa now runs the castle and Robb looks like your shadow since the night Aunt Lya came back. If I go with them there will be less risk of someone finding out what happened that night and also there will be no arguments or fights between Sansa and me. Besides… You know that one way or another I would end up finding Jon, even if I had to do like Aunt Lyanna and run away to look for him.” Arya began in a pleading tone, but at the end, she practically came up with an ultimatum.

' _That was not the strategy Arya'_ cursed inwardly when she saw her father change his until then resigned expression, for one that now conveyed sorrow, pain and acceptance. However, after letting out a long sigh, he gazed into her eyes fondly as he put his left hand over her nape.

"I guess I have no other choice, right?" Her father voice sound half broken, trying to convince her that she had to stay, at least for him. ' _But father has Sansa, Robb and Rickon. Even though the little wolf is the most confused of the whole family, and now seemed to cling to the skirts of Sansa as if she were his mother. Jon even if he has his mother and father, he hardly knows them. He will need me by his side. Nobody knows him better than me.'_ the thought that it was not only for her, but also for the good of Jon, made Arya increase her resolve in defying her father, although deep down Arya was sorry to see him suffer.

“If you don't let me go with them now, I'll find a way to do it !! Why can't I ever have anything I want?" Arya said practically squealing and in a shrill voice. Her father stared at her for a few seconds, until suddenly he sighed and with his Great Lord voice answered her. "If you promise me before the _Weirwood_ of _Godswood_ for your honor as Stark that you will listen to your cousin, swearing to obey him in everything he tells you, while you promise me that you will take care of your brother Bran, I will try to convince Jon."

The phrase came out to Arya's father as if he had already practiced it before hand. ' _Would my father know that I was coming to ask him this? It has been much easier than I expected.'_ trying not to miss the opportunity that presented itself, Arya responded quickly, with an excited and grateful voice to her father.

“Yes father, I will pledge to the _Weirwood_ and on my Stark honor. I will not cause any problems and I will see that Bran does not do stupid things." she said without being able to stop shaking her head affirmatively, while hugging her father with all her might.

"Very well. Talk to your cousin and your aunt about making a place for you, Arya." her father said. Before she could think further, her father grabbed her chin and made her eyes fix on his.

"What are our words Arya?" her father questioned Arya. She had no doubt what he meant, so in her most solemn voice, she spoke the motto of her house.

 _"Winter is Coming"_ Arya's father was nodding, while letting out the first half smile she had seen from him in the last two days. _'Is he proud of me?'_ thinking about it, her chest swelled with pride.

"Do you know why it is important to remember them?" asked her father raising an eyebrow.

"Because you always have to be prepared for bad things?" she replied, trying to sound convincing. ' _In winter it is always a time of hardship, so you have to be prepared for it.'_

Her father's sudden laugh and the warm that appeared in his eyes, made Arya's heart so happy. ' _Now I feel less guilty for asking him to go with Jon, Bran and Aunt Lya.'_ "Ha ... in a way yes, but not only because of that" her father said in a tender way, implying that he was going to explain the true meaning behind their words.

"Remember Arya, in winter when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for fights. In winter, we must protect each other, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would really harm us. Your mother is your mother, no matter how much harm she did in the past, that shouldn't change who she is to you. It may have been shown that she had political interests in mind, more than the family well-being, being as different as the sun and the moon from you. But the same blood flows through both hearts. Do not forget. In the same way your cousin Aegon has your same blood, and you need him, as he needs you ...Gods help me… you have to promise me that you won't let Jon do anything stupid." The end of her father's speech sounded tired and shaky, making Arya sad.

"I don't hate mother" she told him. “Not really. But I'm ashamed of her.” It was only half a lie. Her father seemed to have aged years in the last two days, the last thing Arya wanted was to add more guilty to her regrets.

“Father, can I go tell Jon, Bran, and Aunt Lya that I'm going with them? They must be training in the north courtyard, near the remains of the First Keep.” she said in a vibrant, rhythmic voice.

"Yes. Go tell your cousin that you are going with him, but first, stop by your room and pack changes of clothes necessary for two moons in a bag. Even though your sewing is poor, you are going to have to learn to live with the clothes you have at your disposal for a while." her father said in a serious and imperative voice. Before she could answer him anything, he grabbed her shoulderr and began to stare at her. His face was serious, tired and his eyes reflected concern.

“You are going first to the _Wall_ and then to _Essos._ You will meet many different types of people. You will know many different cultures…” before the emotion that Arya was beginning to show for what she was hearing that awaited her, her father looked at her intensely and withering, calming her instantly.

With a dry, threatening and harsh tone he said. "I tell you the same thing I said to your brother Bran when he made his oaths to be a squire for his uncle and his cousin. You will no longer be sheltered as you have been all your life in _Winterfell._ Be suspicious of anyone who does not show you good reasons to trust him, and even so, never trust completely in anyone who is not from your family. And above all, always remember who you are. You are Arya Stark, from _Winterfell_ , you have the _North_ in your blood child, and if your cousin is right in relation to the prophetic dreams of the Targaryen family, now more than ever you will have to be prepared for _Winter.”_ father finished in a way, that gave Arya chills down her spine.

* * *

After having done what Arya's father had commanded, she headed towards the north courtyard, where apart from telling him the good news that she could go with them if they wanted, Arya wanted to see the two _Last Dragons_ spar _._ One of them was her brother, because it didn't matter if Jon was a Targaryen, or that his father really was Arya's uncle. All that did not matter to Her. Even if his name was Aegon… _'How original… seven Targaryens named like that… they could use another name'_ for her it was always going to be Jon. 

Although she had to admit that, since whatever have happened to him that night at the Crypts, sometimes Jon seemed different. He had become even more withdrawn if possible, observing everything and everyone. Sometimes it seemed as if Jon was absent, but was instantly able to be aware of everything around him. His words, gestures, and actions had a confidence in himself that she didn't know Jon might be capable of. His gaze, which now had its purple streaks more marked, shone like never before, seeming to pierce the eyes of those on whom it rested. When Jon spoke, you felt compelled to listen to him. _'This new Jon is less melancholic, but colder'_

And it wasn't just a personality change. Only two days after losing all the hair on his body, a silver fuzz was beginning to grow, where Jon's dark hair had been before. But that did not matter to Arya either. _'It's sure part of the ritual he was involved in. That he has Valyrian hair does not transform him into another person.'_ she convinced herself.

She ran to where _Nymeria_ was waiting for her in the guard room at the foot of the stairs. The she-wolf stood up as soon as saw Arya, at which she smiled. The wolf pup loved her, even though no one else did, except for her father and her brother Jon. She and her she-wolf went everywhere together, and _Nymeria_ slept in her room at the foot of her bed.

 _Nymeria_ eagerly bit her hand when Arya untied the she-wolf. The still small pup had yellow eyes and when they caught sunlight, they shone like two gold coins. Arya had named her for the warrior queen of the _Rhoyne_ , who had led her people across the _Narrow Sea_ fleeing the domain of the former _Freehold._ What had been a huge scandal for Sansa, who of course, had named her she-pup _Lady_. Arya winced at the memory and hugged her wolf tightly. It licked her ear and she laughed.

"Come" she whispered to _Nymeria_. Then, she got up and ran, the she-wolf on her heels.Below the covered bridge between the armory and the great fortress you had a great view of the entire courtyard. That was where she and _Nymeria_ were headed.

She and her she-wolf, came out of breath, when they find Jon with all his armor on, sitting on a wooden box on the side of which was _Blackfyre_ and a cloth resting against the wall. Jon found himself with one leg stretched upwards, where he leaned languidly his chin. Arya's brother was watching the action between his mother and father, so absorbed that he seemed not to notice Arya's appearance or _Nymeria's_. Furthermore, he was as if conversing with himself, in the strange language he sometimes spoke since the night he appeared in his incredible Valyrian-steel armor in the Great Hall.

“Gaomi daor emagon zaldrīzoti iā mandia iā hāedar, yn īlon mazvēttan se tymptir. Ao se nyke gīmigon skorkydoso se vīlībāzma kostagon tymagon, se skorkydoso naejot vīlībagon ziry. Se kȳvanon kessa mirre [[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45647959?view_adult=true#_ftn1)” Jon seemed to say to himself as if he were self-convincing.

When her she-wolf approached her brother's white wolf, this one moved to meet her. _Nymeria_ moved closer to _Ghost_ , and the largest of the littermates, first smelled her she-wolf, then gave her neck a a loving nibble, and finally both wolfs settled one over the other.

Jon who noticed her presence looked at her curiously. "Shouldn't you be working on your seams, little sister?" he said in a mocking voice full of warmth.

Arya made a face at him, began to explain her presence, almost squealing. "I wanted to see you and your father fight and tell you something important, Jon."

Her brother smiled, a smile that reached Jon's eyes, transforming his now typical cold and vibrant gaze, into one full of warm and sweetnes. "When my mother and Rhaegar are done, you'll see. In the meantime why don't you join me while I watch them train? By the way, I would rather you call me Aegon or Egg if we're in private, though, when we're just with family you can call me Jon. But remember. The less that is known about my past when I leave Winterfell, the better. The situation is already quite complex, accompanied by two people who should not even be among the living, not including me and Bran plus three _Direwolf._ Well, three if you don't want to come with us… If you want to come there would be four…”After starting with a solemn, cold and resigned tone, he ended with a sly voice, as if expecting a negative answer from her.

She could only throw herself into hugging him with all her might. Arya thought she would have to beg him and convince him that even Arya's father Lord Eddard had allowed her to go if she behaved well. She climbed onto the box and after the hug, she sat next to him, A chorus of thumps and grunts echoed through the courtyard, which was deserted except for her, Jon, the two sparring partners, and her brother Bran. This one was supposedly acting as a squire ' _Although I would rather say that he is doing the same as me and Jon. Look at them.'_

Focusing on the spar, Arya could see that her aunt barely make her husband uncomfortable, but for a woman, she was incredibly good. The previous two afternoons, when Arya had also come to watch them practice, her aunt more than once did it with her. And Rhaegar insisted that she was a match more than enough for Bran to practice the new skills he was teaching her, sometimes stupid, little brother.

“I was also just coming to tell you that my father would let me go with you if you and Aunt Lya agreed, but I'm going to need a sword if I'm accompany you!! I can be part of your new _Kingsguard_ , like Bran in the future!!" Arya said excitedly and Jon looked at her with all the wisdom he suddenly seemed to have.

"You are too thin, you lack strength and muscle. Visenya was such a good warrior because since she had four days of the name was practicing and strengthening herself to be able to wield castle steel, or in her case _Dark Sister."_ Jon said while taking her arm to feel her muscle. Then Jon sighed and shook his head. "I doubt you can even lift a longsword, little sister, I won't mention trying to wield one of them at someone. Practice swords are one thing, castle steel quite another." 

Arya snatched her arm of her brother's grip and glared at him. Jon seemed unfazed by this, and began to tangle her hair again while sepaking to her in warmth voice "However I know a type of sword that you can not only lift, but also wield." He looked at her silently with his dark silvery purple eyes, which seemed to sparkle. "That's why I have something for you to always carry with you."

"A present?" Arya said in a shrill voice.

"You could call it that." Jon said exultantly and happy with himself. A big smile lit up his face as he reached down to the side of the box to grab the cloth, which he then handed to her. Arya's eyes widened. Dark eyes, like her brother's, except for the purple streaks and indigo.

"A sword." Arya said in a small, silent breath, almost reverential. The scabbard was soft, supple gray leather. Jon drew the blade out slowly, so that she could see the deep blue glow of castle steel.

"This is not a toy." Jon told her. "Be careful not to cut yourself. The edges are sharp enough to shave."

"Girls don't shave, and neither do you." Arya said jokingly.

"Maybe they should. Have you ever seen your septa's legs?" Jon replied scathingly, to which she couldn't help but laugh.

Looking at Arya's new sword, she now realized that it was not only shorter than a normal longsword, it was also much thinner and had a hilt designed for her. "This sword is not going to cut anyone in half. It is very thin" Arya said half complaining.

"You too." Jon told him. "I had Mikken make this especially for you based on models I saw during the _Dragon's_ campaigns in _Essos_. Bravoosi use swords like these to practice the so-called _Water Dance._ Likewise, these types of swords also abound in Pentos and Myr and the other Free Cities. It won't cut off a man's head, but it can leave a hole in him if you're fast enough."

"I can be fast" responded Arya excitedly.

"You will have to work on it every day." He put the sword in her hands, showing her how to hold it, and stepped back.

"How does it feel? Do you like the balance?" Jon asked in a tremulous and doubtful voice.

"I think so" Arya said.

"First lesson" Jon said solemnly and seriously. "Hit them with the pointed end."

Arya hit him on the arm with the plane of her sword, to which Jon responded by grinning like an idiot.

"I know which end to use, stupid." Arya said. A dubious look crossed her "Who will I practice with?"

"When I can, I will training you personally, but I think my mother and Bran could be good sparring partners. Besides, Rhaegar has given my mother a practically identical sword." Jon promised, suddenly staring into space, his body as dejected and with a weight that could not support. "I wish none of this was happening ..." Suddenly, it seemed that her brother was going to cry, while muttering with infinite sadness. Arya moved quickly towards him to give him a big hug.

"Put down your sword first." Jon warned her, suddenly turning his sudden sadness into a huge smile. She put her sword aside almost shyly and showered him in kisses.

"I almost forgot." he told her in a suggestive voice. "All the best swords have names."

"Like _ICE or BLACKFYRE?_ " She said as her brother nod while looking at the blade in her hand.

"Does this one have a name? Oh tell me!" she implored.

"Can't you guess?" Jon joked. "Your favorite thing in this world."

At first it puzzled her ' _He must be being ironic'_ then she so quickly fell on the name, that they said it at the same time.

" _Needle_!" Both fell into laughter that caught the attention of Arya's uncle and aunt, whom stopped training to go where she and Jon were. Her Aunt Lya was wearing leather riding breeches and boots from when she was still living in Winterfell and a black embossed leather breastplate, which, like the leather bracelets and gray camisole she wore under her breastplate, once belonged to Jon. Jon's father, Rhaegar, was also fully dressed in Jon's clothing and leather complements, from which had the _Stark_ sigils removed.

' _Since Jon always liked to wear black or dark gray, you can see that my uncle is comfortable in those colors.'_ Personally Arya preferred to see her uncle dressed like this rather than like the first night. ' _It was very strange to see a Targaryen, with that silver platinum hair, dressed in the clothes of father and Robb.'_ Arya thought, as she saw how her aunt still was panting from the effort she made duing the spar, with red cheeks and locks of her long braided raven hair stuck to her face from sweat. Arya's uncle was also a little breathless and showed signs of having exercised his body, but he did not appear to be nearly as tired as her aunt. ' _It seems that Jon is right about wielding a long sword. My aunt is taller and stronger than me and yet she is hardly a match for her husband with a sword similar to the one Jon has given me '_

She was pulled from her internal explanation by her uncle Rhaegar. “Arya, your cousin has something to tell you. Your aunt Lya, Egg and I have reached an agreement on your new status when you are with us…If you want to come, of course.” The once _Silver Prince_ said in a conspiratorial way as he looked at his son, wearing a smile that reached his dark indigo eyes. Meanwhile her aunt Lya motioned for Bran to come closer, before setting her sword and breastplate next to the box where Jon was sitting. _'Status? Don't tell me that the condition that I go with them is that they call me my lady… '_ Arya began to frown and look suspiciously at her uncle.

"Easy Arya !! The three of us know how much you hate the title of lady… that's why you will never have to use it again!." her Aunt Lyanna intoned in a sweet, energetic voice. Arya was about to go hug her aunt when Jon grabbed her shoulder, stopping her short and turning her to face him.

He began to look into Arya's eyes with some doubt but with complicity “Arya, as I consider you my sister, and I hope that you consider me your brother, from today you are Arya Stark _, Princess of Westeros and Princess of Winter_. The same titles that my mother holds. What do you think?"

The way Jon spoke to her seemed to ask her to be happy with her new titles. Arya didn't really know how to react. On one hand, she did not like titles at all, much less being referred with deference ' _However, these are the same titles as my aunt has and she unhorsed three Knigths and does not seem to mind the idea of being called Excellence or Princess. Maybe sometimes you have to give in on some things to have others'_

"I like it. Thank you.” Arya said briefly but warmly as she went to hug Jon. She knew that what Jon was doing was of great importance ' _When we return to Westeros and Jon sits on the Iron Throne, I will be a princess and I will be by his side protecting him as father asked me.'_

Without Arya knowing very well why, Jon shuddered away from her embrace, his expressions changing to ones of disbelief and concern. She was not the only one who noticed the abrupt change in her brother's behavior, as her aunt Lya put a hand on Jon's shoulder, taking an interest in her son.

"Egg, what is it? What's happening to you?" Jon's mother asked with concern and wonder.

Jon seemed to not understand exactly what was happening to him, but his expression was beginning to reflect panic. With a questioning and concerned look, Jon turned to his father. “Rhaegar, do you feel like a tightness in your chest? Do you feel like heat rushing throughout your body? As a ball of heat compressing from the insides? " Jon's tone was fast-paced and urgent.

Rhaegar frowned before answer the question his son was doing. “I've been feeling something like that since I _appeared_ in the crypts, what is it? What's up?" her uncle's voice rang with some alarm.

"Is it more intense now than that night?" Jon asked almost fearfully. Arya's brother body attitude, was now a ball of badly contained nerves.

"Yes, Why it's that?" Rhaegar answered his son questioningly.

Instead of calming down, Jon became even worse and began to mutter something unintelligible to anyone present, showing despair in his eyes.

“It can't be, by all the gods it can't be. Seven times curse you Senya…” Jon began to exclaim practically desperate.

Arya and her brother Bran didn't quite understand what was happening, but her aunt Lyanna was beginning to have a worried look on her face after hearing the name of the _Conqueror's_ sister

"Don't tell me that the effects of the ritual are wearing off and we're going to die again ...?" the broken and trembling voice of her aunt worried Arya immediately _'It's true Visenya did the ritual, is this that Jon and Rhaegar are feeling is s omething related with the ritual, would they die again? It can't be. No ...' _Arya began to fear internally for her brother's life.  


"Easy mother, and you too Arya. We are not going to die again unless, gods forbid, someone kill us… no… maybe I have reacted in a bad way. Look at the sky in a southeastern direction...” Jon said now much calmer, with a firm and enigmatic voice, as he stood up to his full height and directed his gaze where he had indicated. Like him, she, her brother, her aunt and her uncle began to do the same.

At first Arya did not see anything, only the sky painted with the orange and yellow tones, which the sun leaves before setting, while casting its last rays through the clouds, towards _Wolf's Wood._ Fixing her eyes better, she was able to see what looked like eagles in the distance.

Eagles that got bigger and bigger the closer they got in a straight line towards the castle, as if it was calling them. Before Arya could understand why those birds, which were definitely not eagles because of their monstrous size, were heading towards where they were standing, a deafening roar shook the _North_ , practically making her ears bleed.

It was her brother Bran, whose eyes were about to pop out of their sockets and with his mouth wide open, who said what Arya's eyes were beginning to distinguish clearly, but that she could not believe.

 _"Those ar...are...Dra ... Dra ... Dragons !!!"_ her brother Bran tried to say, but it was practically a hesitant stammer. She froze listening to him, as she felt her heart pound in her chest.

Suddenly there were _three shrill screams_. Arya stretched her neck as far as she could and finally saw them clearly, approaching at great speed and getting bigger and bigger before her eyes. Three gigantic dragons flying side by side in the northern sunset sky.

The one in the middle of the three was gigantic, the largest creature Arya had ever seen. As dark as night, it looked like a monstrous flying shadow. The smallest of the three, possibly as large as the _Great Keep_ , was a mixture of orange and yellowish colors, blending in with the reflections of the setting sun. The third dragon was bigger than the yellowish one, but considerably smaller than the black one. Its silver scales reflected rays of light, causing it to be dazzled when staring at it.

The black dragon released another earth-splitting roar that was answered by roars from the other two dragons. Arya couldn't take her eyes off them. They were beautiful, magnificent and absolutely fascinating. She watched as they flew above _Wolf's Wood,_ covering the forest and everything else under the shadow of their wings. They did not carry any _Dragonrider_ on theirs backs, only huge iron chains at the base of their serpentine necks, which would surely serve as a saddle. Arya watched them as they flew over Winterfell and Wintertown, plunging them into utter darkness, ending with two of them descending just outside the castle on the other side of the north courtyard, shaking the foundations of the castle by doing so.

The third, the gigantic black one, circled the castle once more and let out a chilling roar accompanied by a blaze of dark black fire that climbed high in to the sky. ' _A flame just like the one that pulverized the First Keep two nights ago'_ thought suddenly when she saw that dark shot of flame.  


With no time to really process anything, the black dragon settled heavily on the remains of the north wall, where the entrance to the _First Keep_ would once rise _._ Arya had to bend her neck back to be able to look up at the huge snout of the gigantic dragon.

" _Balerion ..."_ Jon said reverently.

At that moment everyone present, except for Jon, had a shudder in their body and fell back to the safety that the arch of the armory bridge might offer. Jon, on the other hand, seemed as if he was drawn to the magic that even Arya could saw exuded from the mythical dragon.

Arya's brother began to advance towards _The Black Dread_ with determination and confidence. When he was less than thirty paces from the dragon, it lowered its neck and snout to bring it up to Jon's level. Balerion's eyes, which looked like molten lava, fell on Jon and he reached with his hand out to the huge muzzle and laid it calmly, beginning to speak sweetly and singly in that strange language he now spoke sometimes, as if it were commonplace everything that was happening.

“For the old and new gods, Rhaegar do something! That beast is going to devour our son in front of us!" Her aunt Lya exclaimed, who was pale. Her husband, on the other hand, seemed fascinated with what he was witnessing, just like Bran, and only the cry of his wife brought him out of the reverie in which he was immersed.

"Lya , What do you want me to do? They called me the _Last Dragon_ , but I have no idea how to interact with a dragon and much less can I claim how these three got here! I don't even know if it really is Balerion…if it is, the chronicles and descriptions of the Maesters did not do it justice. What a magnificent creature!" Rhaegar answered in an excited, high and melodious voice to Arya's aunt Lya, showing that he had more astonishment and disbelief at the situation, than concern about what might happen to his son. Bran nodded at Rhaegar's every word as if he signed them himself, then turned his gaze back to Jon and _The Black Dread._

When Arya turned at the sound of a murmur at her back, she saw that without them noticing, much of the servants, guards and the entire family except her mother, were behind her. The vast majority were terrified, their eyes darting between the gigantic dragon, Jon, her uncle Rhaegar, and her aunt Lya. Arya's father, who had also appeared there, looked like he was seeing one of the _Others_. Robb was totally pale, and Maester Luwin looked like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth nonstop. Her sister Sansa had a mixture of disbelief, fear and fascination

' _I see that we have something in common. After all, a lot of the stories she likes are related to the Targaryens. What's more Targaryen than the fucking Black Dread in flesh and fire?'_ Arya thought with a certain inner satisfaction at seeing Sansa in such an _unrefined_ state _._ When she turned her gaze towards Jon, Arya saw how Jon had climbed on top of one of the protruding horns that protruded from the enormous head of the dragon, which rose about five meters from the ground causing the general murmur among the recently gathered.

"Silence!" Jon exclaimed, in a call echoed by Balerion's deafening roar. Arya's brother fearsome mount, twisted its neck so that its head better admit the weight of her brother, who at that time gave the impression of being someone out of legends or songs.

As Jon requested ... _'ordered rather'_ the people fell silent, all staring at the figure of her brother who had one hand wielding _Blackfyre_ which he had drawn, and the other clutching one of Balerion's horns against which tightened.

"My name" began to say Jon in a voice as loud and clear as she had never heard him "is Aegon Targaryen, the _Dragon Reborn_ and sooner or later I will regain what is rightfully mine. To those who oppose me or the Stark family, I will teach the meaning of the words of house Targaryen.” Jon proclaimed sharply and menacingly.

“But as long as the _North_ and its people do not meddle in affairs south of the _Neck_ , no one should fear for their safety. On the contrary, they will have my support to defend them." He declared this time in a persuasive and friendly tone.

Before Arya could react, everyone present, including her father, her brother Robb, her sister, her uncle, her aunt, and her brother Bran, even little Rickon, dropped to their knees and paid respect to their _King_. Only she remained standing, to which Jon gave her a knowing smile, while raising an eyebrow gracefully. She replied almost laughing, with a bad courtesy of the head.

' _My brother has my undying loyalty. He doesn't need me to kneel before him. I am the Princess of Winter.'_

* * *

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/45647959?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) We do not have dragons or sister or little sister, but We built the game. You and I know how the war can play, and how to fight it. The plan will work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When i wrote this chapter ... I was thinking of doing Winterfell farewells, but meh ...  
> Next:  
> We go to the Wall and the True North. Donal Noye's armory will go red hot and Bran will take on the role of his life (And no, he's not going to be paralyzed, and he's not going to be 'bad' though I wouldn't put him in 'good' either. Bloodbran would be a good definition )
> 
> Thaks everyone for reading!!


	10. Lyanna I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R+L= E?

** Twenty-ninth day ofFifth Moon 297AC. Castle Black at the Wall, North of Westeros **

_"You never knew **Lyanna** as I did, Robert," Ned told him. "You saw her beauty, but not the iron_ underneath." AGoT, Eddard VII

* * *

Twelve days after arriving at Castle Black, Lyanna was practically used to her temporary new life. She, Rhaegar, and Arya had the King's Tower at their beck and call, a round tower with merlons on top, and an iron-reinforced oak door.

They shared a room, so she and Rhaegar hadn't been able to get too close, but that didn't bother either Lyanna or her husband, as they were so exhausted at night that all they could do was rest or worry about the family they were having on the other side of the Wall. _'And that's a thought I promised Egg that I wouldn't have. They have the Black Dread with them. Nothing can happen to them'_ it was her ongoing mantra whenever Lyanna thought she hadn't heard from her son Aegon, her nephew Bran, and her brother Benjen for eight days. 

Despite fearing for her son's safety, she couldn't help but feel guilty for everything that had happened to him in his life. When her nephew Bran touched her during the meeting on the night of her resurrection in the Lord of Winterfell's solar, without quite understanding how, Bran transmitted or passed her on all the memories that he had of Aegon.

Many times when Lyanna was slept at night, she could see the image of her crying child at the foot of the _Weirdwood Tree_ of the Godswood of Winterfell, crying out to the gods for being a true Stark, having a name to be recognized. Other times Lyanna saw him all alone, in the shadows of the First Keep, wondering who her mother would be and why she didn't want him. Inevitably, every time she had one of these dreams, Lyanna would wake up crying, startled and not really knowing where she was.

She was still not able to accept that she had come back to life and that she could meet her son, who was practically her age. Son which Lya had never been able to care for or protect in her life. That was something that did not stop tormenting her and that she had not shared with anyone. _'Although I think Rhaegar has a hunch because he must feel the same. Or in his case even worse…Although they have a cordial relationship, and after the "reading" of the first night, they have always been on the same page, Aegon rarely calls him father. And when he does, it is usually more to emphasize whose son he is, rather than the consideration he really has for Rhaegar. At least Aegon has shown me unconditional love from the first moment, that I still don't know how I will be able to return, nor when._ ' She bitterly thought with concern, as stroked the fur on the neck of her wolf, who had sat on her hind legs next to Lyanna, sharing the last rays of sunlight that came through the window.

Deep down, Lyanna's great fear was that she would never develop a mother-child relationship with her own child. Soon Aegon was going to be an adult for all intents and purposes, although he had literally lived seven and thirty days from the name _'Why does he need me?_ ' Lyanna wondered bitterly and in panic.

Arya was behind her playing with the three winter’s pups, as she had already dressed for sword lessons with Rhaegar, possibly her niece's favorite moment in the routine of their life at Castle Black. Meanwhile, Lya was dedicated to contemplating the privileged view that from her rooms she could appreciate of the evening life in the castle on the _Wall_.

Vhagar and Meraxes were flying over the south of Castle Black, some brothers were heading towards their posts and functions according to the changing of the guard, while the smell of the dinner that was being prepared in the kitchens began to be perceived.

Castle Black was a particular place, not at all like she had imagined it before coming here. Lyanna used to think it was a proud castle. One that could withstand any siege from the other side of the Wall, full of people with one purpose in mind: to protect the kingdoms from the threats that hovered on the other side of the massive wall of ice and magic.

When she finally got to really see Castle Black from the sky, its wooden beams and stone towers looked like nothing more than a handful of toy blocks strewn on the snow, beneath the vast wall of ice. The old stronghold of the black brothers did not look at all like _Winterfell_ , or a real castle, really. Lacking walls, it couldn’t be defended, neither from the south, nor towards the east, nor towards the west; but only the north was the one that defended the Night's Watch, and to the north stood the Wall. It was almost 220 meters high, three times the height of the tallest tower of the castle it housed. Her brother told Lyanna that the upper part was wide enough for a dozen knights in armor to travel through it side by side. The gaunt outlines of huge catapults and monstrous wooden cranes loomed up there, like the skeletons of great birds, among which men in black as small as ants walked.

Once upon a time, Castle Black had housed five thousand warriors with all their horses, servants, and weapons. It was now home to a tenth of that number, and parts of it were falling into ruin. The watch had built nineteen great fortresses along the Wall, but only three were still occupied: Eastwatch on its windswept gray shoreline, Shadow Tower pierced by the mountains where the Wall ended on its western side, and Castle Black at the end of the Kingsroad. The other castles have been deserted for a long time; lonely places, where cold winds crossed through black windows.

 _'It really is a ruined, old and soulless brotherhood, just like the people who belong to it. It is a place that absorbs all the joy and light of life. And dearest Ned intended to send my son to this fate…By all the Gods, thanks to Visenya and her ritual!_ ' Lyanna thought as she inevitably had a look of disgust on her face.

In a way, when criminals had to choose between death and the Night's Watch, they didn't know then, but they chose between the death of their bodies and the death of their souls. Now that she knew it, she knew what she would choose if she had to choose. _'How naive I was when with Benjen, I thought as a child that this could be the ideal place to escape from our father and politics ...I imagined myself as a Danny Flint who would have a happy ending..._ ' but there was little happiness or warmth in the Castle Black; The walls were cold here, and the people were even colder and more unhappy. The Night's Watch was now largely made up of misfits from the Seven Kingdoms.

* * *

** Seventeenth day of the fifth moon of 297AC, over Brandon's Gift, North of Westeros  
**

Eleven days ago, the sudden appearance of the dragons had forced them to leave Winterfell in a hurry. Although Aegon and Rhaegar assured Lyanna’s brother Ned that everything that had happened had been so crazy, that it was almost impossible for anyone who had not been present to give it credibility. However, Ned wanted to drive the _dragons_ away from Winterfell as quickly as possible. Therefore, both Rhaegar and Aegon agreed that it was best to leave without delay that same night.

After an emotional farewell at full speed with the family, promising to see each other again as soon as possible, they headed for the _Conqueror_ and his sisters’ dragons. There, to the surprise of the five who were leaving behind the _Heart of the North_ , the yellowish-orange dragon, proved to be very interested in her husband Rhaegar.

Egg soon explained to his father that the dragon reacted like that because of the curiosity of the Targaryen blood present in Rhaegar and that once curiosity was satiated, it would ignore Rhaegar again. _'How wrong was proven.’_ Lyanna thought now with humor at the situation. When the five of them were preparing to climb on Balerion to go to the _Wall_ , the enormous muzzle of the dragon that Aegon claimed was _Vhagar_ , it approached Rhaegar, preventing Lya’s husband from continuing towards the _Conqueror's_ dragon. After a few moments in which Rhaegar and the dragon stared, the latter lowered it serpentine neck in submission.

Her son Aegon explained quickly and without much flowery speech, the reaction was due to the dragon having taken Rhaegar as _Dragonrider_. _'The rather distant truth of the mythological image I had in my mind of what it was like to bond with a dragon. Although considering my relationship with Winter, it's not too strange either. In the end, no matter how mythical they are, they are free beings like people. And as they, they choose who they want to be with for the rest of their lives._ '

Reflection that made her inevitably thought about how her life and that of the entire continent had been irretrievably changed by choosing herself with whom to spend the rest of her days.

Thanks to Rhaegar suddenly becoming the _Dragonrider_ of Vhagar, or so her son claimed, now they would not have to juggle to get the five people and the four Direwolfs, on Balerion's back. _'And not for lack of space ... where legend says that dragons are fire made flesh, does not lie.’_ On the flight to Castle Black, despite going on Rhaegar's lap, they had to make three long stops, because both Lyanna’s herself and her nephews, who were also on Egg's lap on the _Black Dread_ , were unable to bear the heat radiating of the dragons.

However, the feeling of freedom and power that was felt soaring through the skies on the mythical animals, made the slight burns and the unbearable heat, a tolerable annoyance in order to experience the sensations that only the descendants of Old Valyria and some few more fortunate, had been able to experiment throughout the history of Planetos. ‘ _Without a doubt, my son and husband must feel the closest beings to the Gods that can exist by having control over such creatures.’_

Her huge she-wolf did not like to fly on _Vhagar_ at all , not only because of the heat that the dragon gave off, but because of the harness that held her to the chains that Rhaegar was attached to and pulled them onto the dragon’s back. So after the first stop, Winter decided to go on her own to Castle Black, where she would surely appear in the days following her arrival, how it was. The pups, on the other hand, even going over the bodies of their masters, hardly felt more heat than these, but they tolerated the flight quite well.

After almost a full day of flying and stopping, they began to glimpse the _wall_ in the distance at the evening of the day after their departure from _Winterfell_ to the _Wall_ , when there was hardly any light left.

While the silver dragon, or as her son claimed, _Meraxes_ , stayed in the area of the _New Gift_ , the two dragons that carried them continued to fly high until the magical wall of ice was outlined bigger and bigger on the horizon.

When they found themselves over some kind of town near the King’s road her son Aegon caused _Balerion_ to begin a steep descent to almost level with the ground, causing _Vhagar_ to imitate it.

Lyanna had never felt an adrenaline rush capable of resembling what she experienced at that moment. At first Lyanna felt as if her stomach were going to her head, but later, the only thing she was capable of feeling was the speed and power of the mythical animal she was on, causing her to laugh out of control, something that Rhaegar also had done. At the expressions of her nephew and niece on Aegon's lap, they too must had experienced one of the most incredible moments of theirs life.

In the moment Egg leveled _the Black Dread_ , it let out a roar capable of moving the foundations of the very _wall_ , causing the appearance of small black dots under them, which moving with bewilderment and confusion began to head towards the wall, following the trail of the dragons.

Her husband intended to emulate their son's action, but instead of _Vhagar_ roaring as well, the only thing Rhaegar managed to draw from his newly bonded dragon was a shrill screech in response to Aegon's dragon roar.

 _'It is clear that the bond, even if it exists, takes time to develop. Egg was able to even know what Balerion was feeling, as he told them at one of the stops. Rhaegar, on the other hand, was unable to explain what exactly was his bond or the feelings shared with the dragon, coming to believe that Vhagar for now was limited to following in the wake of Balerion and Aegon.'_ she thought remembering the moment.

After the descent in flight height, it did not take another five minutes of flight to contemplate Castle Black, approaching until they were five hundred meters from the enclosure, where the dragons landed heavily on the snowy ground, both lowering their necks to a height that would allow them to get off of them.

 _'Even on ground, from the place where we sit, there are about ten or fifteen meters to the ground. And Balerion is practically a hill of muscles and scales, rising up to almost thirty meters where the saddle is, capable of moving, shaking the earth wherever it treads._ ' thought as Lyanna saw her son's gigantic dragon begin to purr almost like a kitten, while Aegon stroked it as a sign that it was time to let them lower to the ground.

The snow in the ground underneath soon began to be a pool of water and mud from the heat emitted by both dragons. In the distance, the figures of black brothers began to emerge on their mounts, coming out to meet them from Castle Black.

She and Rhaegar descended from _Vhagar_ , while Bran went about his squire duties, quickly descending from Aegon's lap and _Balerion’s_ wing with his nameless pup in arms. Then Bran put the pup on the ground and the bags and saddlebags carried by _Balerion_ and _Vhagar_. After that, Bran dedicated himself to tying on his tournament sword, the sigil of Lyanna’s son and husband's house, finished off by a white handkerchief. _'Even though it's less than 50 centimeters long by 30 wide, seeing the three-headed rampant dragon in blood red on black is quite a vision. Especially when the three dragons that gave to the sigil were present on the world_.'

Arya for her part, with her pup and Egg's in her arms, jumped from _Balerion_ with her legs still a little shaky from the previous descent of the dragon. Both she and her niece were dressed almost identically. She was wearing a black leather riding breeches over a long gray woolen hose and black leather riding boots down to the knee. Then a long dark blue corded cloth tunic over white woolen shirt. On the chest, both she and Arya wore leather breastplates, from which their woolen cloaks hung on their backs. Arya's whole grey, hers black, with gray and red trim.

The two cloaks, as well as the little banner, were hastily made as a parting gift from her niece Sansa, who of course had the Tullys' ability to sew. ‘ _Not in a million years of Septa lessons I would be able to sew like her._ ' Lyanna’s lack of skill with the sewing needle was a great bonding point with her niece Arya, who practically became a kind of little sister for her.

' _When the clothes we wear break, my son The Dragon Reborn is going to have to sew his mother and cousin's clothes'_ Lya told her niece to reduce the little one anxiety during one of the flight stops, when she confessed how guilty and terrible she felt for being unable to sew as well as her sister Sansa after the praise Rhaegar gave to the doublet Sansa made for him. She didn't know how, but between her and Aegon, Arya, Bran, Rhaegar, formed an unusual family in just four days.

After she and Rhaegar descended from Vhagar, staying at healthy distance from the _Black Dread,_ her husband and nephew, ahead of her and Arya, sided with the huge dragon. Rhae's dragon, Vhagar, coiled in on himself, casting a curious glance around him, but being totally unconcerned about the situation.

They didn't expect a hostile reception, but they didn't expect a warmth reception with open arms. Most of the nobles there were Targaryen ultra-loyalists who had refused to bend the knee to the usurper. On the contrary, the vast majority of small folk black brothers were rapists, criminals, and thieves. These in order to escape their fate at the _wall_ would kill them to give their heads to Robert in exchange for forgiveness.

Aegon, in his full Valyrian steel armor, the clothes and crown of the _Conqueror_ and _Blackfyre_ wielded in his right hand, remained in his mount as a symbol of power or defiance, Lyanna could not say _'But by the Old and New Gods, w_ _hat an impression!_ _. He is my son and he imposes respect even on me.’_ she thought when comparing Aegon with the appearance of her husband, who despite wearing his full armor except for the helmet, rubies included, seemed more out of a tournament than what Egg warrior-god looked like _._

As soon as the brothers of the Watch approach within one hundred meters of them ' _Or what is the same, bow distance._ ' and became a possible threat, _Balerion_ roared again, leaving her practically deaf. It caused the stampede of the horses and black brothers in all directions except the one they were in. Some of the less fortunate fell off their horses and were still recovering from the blows.

Glancing at one of these, she gazed at what Lyanna believed to be the elongated face and dark brown hair, of someone she hadn't seen since before eloping with Rhaegar.

The distance and circumstances, made positive identification impossible. ‘ _The only one my brother Benjen could identify would be Aegon, but with my son's fledgling silver hair and his current appearance, I doubt he will recognize him._ ' Lyanna reflected to herself, as Rhaegar gave Bran a little push on the shoulder, so that he raised his blunt sword as high as he could as a banner and sign of peace.

With the loudest and most powerful voice a child of almost nine days of the name could produce, Bran announced to the brothers of the Night's Watch who they were and their intentions. “Brothers of the Watch! We have come in peace! Aegon Targaryen, the Dragon Reborn, requests an audience with Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, First Ranger Benjen Stark, and Maester Aemon!"

Her nephew's shrill, childlike voice echoed across the snowy landscape, but to what extent the black brothers could understand what Bran was saying, Lyanna was unable to say. A man walked towards them, his raw black leather where sounding faintly in the snow as he moved. It was a compact man, in his fifties, sober and tough, with gray hair in his black hair. About at fifty yards from them he stopped.

“Aegon Targaryen died! Dragons or not, all I see before me is an impostor posing as a dead man, in gleaming armor and fine replicas of long-lost Targaryen inheritances." The man who seemed to have taken command of the situation spoke in a loud voice, cold and full of disgust. The one she believed to be her brother Benjen but who she couldn't quite identify, was reaching the height of the man who had spoken and seemed to whisper something to him. As the one who spoke suddenly noticed Rhaegar, his eyes widening and dropping his jaw practically to the ground.

"Can’t be! It's not possible! That armor belongs to a dead man. It's just an imitation of someone with a similar appearance.” was suddenly heard in the conversation between the two black brothers.

Her son seemed to have had enough of the situation and began to speak from his elevated position, from where he surely recognized the figures in front of them. With a resigned but half smile, Aegon sheathed his sword behind his back.

"Uncle Benjen! It's me, Jon! The little one with the banner is Bran, the lass is Arya and… well she is my mother and he is my father.” exclaimed Egg with a loud and clear voice, using the name he hated so much.

' _One of the things I've learned from Aegon in the short time we've known each other is that except from Arya's lips he can't bear to hear that name._ ’ Lyanna thought as she saw how at the moment Aegon pronounced the name of her brother Ned's adoptive father, her son's eyes were clouded. ' _Being named during all of his life in honor of the person who orchestrated part of the overthrow of his Dynasty, should not be pleasant for Aegon when he knows the truth._ ' thought Lyanna when reflected on how true her father's words were sometimes; she could remember when her father told her that a painful truth in time, was better than a bitter lie prolonged in time. 

_'If the farewell between Ned and Aegon, and between Aegon and his cousin Robb indicated anything, it is that the relationship between the three was at the coldest point within an existing and undeniable mutual affection.’_ Lya’s thought, because even she was more effusive with her brother Ned than her son.

The one that Lyanna was clear now was her brother Benjen, seemed to finally notice the two female figures that were behind Rhaegar and Bran, closing his vision especially on Lyanna.

Suddenly, Benjen started to run in her direction screaming like a maniac, in a state of euphoria and disbelief "Lya???!!! Lyanna??!! How is it possible?" her brother shouted repeatedly without stopping in desperation, while he ran.

She could not help it and also ran in Benjen’s direction to hug him, finding it impossible to contain the tears of happiness at being reunited with her little brother.

"It's me Ben! I'm here and I'm alive little brother! Rhaegar and I came back from the dead four days ago!" Lyanna shouted with happiness and joy to meet again with her favorite brother and the one who was an accomplice of so many adventures in her youth, throwing herself to hug him to the point of throwing Benjen to the ground. When Lyanna finally looked up from her brother's chest, she could see that Benjen was crying too, but not with joy.

Her brother Benjen had a practically disconsolate cry, with a face totally marked by pain. ' _No one could mistake him for my little brother today. Not only because I continue with seven and ten days of the name, but because my brother in fifteen years seems to have aged thirty._ ' she lamented bitterly, as thousands of thoughts crossed her mind about what might have happened to her brother's life if she had not married Rhaegar, or if Rhaegar had prevailed.

"Sorry Lya! I tried to convince them…I explained the story a thousand times to Father and then after the madness of Aerys, I send a raven for Ned to Riverrun, telling him the same by parchment, but neither of them paid any attention to me. Father said that I was so haunted by my admiration for Ser Arthur Dayne and the Prince that I was unable to see their true faces…" Benjen said in a heartbreaking voice and with a wince.

In the same voice broken by pain, Benjen continued to tell her what happened in Winterfell after Lyanna’s departure after Rhaegar, to marry with him. “Father tried to make me see that keeping the secret of the _Knight of the Laughing Tree_ was a ploy to cajole you and hold you dear to Rhaegar’s. Father could not imagine how you could prefer a married man who had humiliated you before the kingdoms and with a mad father, than the _good_ Robert. When the news of Brandon's imprisonment and the call to trial for father came, before leaving me alone in _Winterfell_ waiting for our bannermen for war, he said that the call of the _Mad King_ was the confirmation that you had been kidnapped...” said her brother, looking with some respect towards Rhaegar and Aegon, in case they had been offended by the comment regarding Lya’s seven times cursed late father-in-law.

 _'If Benjen knew the opinion that Aerys's son and grandson have of him, he would certainly have no problem expressing himself more freely about him. Possibly if he were to alive again, between the two of them they would help Ser Jaime to kill him again ... And surely I would help them too.'_ she thought while smiled exculpatory at her brother.

Lya was going to address him, but before her, or anyone else could intervene, the brother of the Watch who had spoken at first. seemed to have gone into a trance, beginning to walk part of the distance that separated him to Rhaegar. Before the watchful and expectant gaze of Aegon from Balerion, an uncoiled Vhagar and from the wolf pups that had stopped playing with each other and from the others present, the robust brother of the Watch continued to approach Lya’s husband, until he was less than fifteen feet from her husband. At that moment, the black brother stared at Rhaegar as confirming that her husband was really there, then he dropped to one knee and made a stiff courtesy with his head.

"Your Grace, is it really you? I'm not dreaming or under the effect of a spell, right?" the black brother said in a voice that was nothing like the first one he had used on them. His tone was practically reverential, as if had one of the _Seven Southern Gods_ before him.

Rhaegar didn't seem to fully recognize the man, but in view of the undoubted hope that shone in those hard eyes as he recognized him, her husband relaxed his usually stony face, trying to smile as he nodded. ' _Of course Rhae can't fake a smile even if his life depended on it. Except with very select company, it seems that my husband face only has two masks; neutral and impassive._ ' she thought while clearly seeing how her husband could often seem like two different people, depending on the situation and context _‘At least for me’_.

"That’s right, my good Ser ...?" Rhaegar asked with a neutral voice and an inquisitive look, while with his hand he gestured for the black brother to stand up.

Meanwhile, she and her brother took the opportunity to get up from the snowy ground, shaking off as best they could part of the snow that had impregnated them and began to melt through their bodies.

"Ser Alliser Thorne, Your Grace! I was part of the defenders of _Kings Landing_ before the Lannister army sacked it. After the _Sack_ , the accursed Tywin disowned me, took my possessions, and sent me to the wall, all for being loyal to the sour end ... If you'll excuse my frankness, Your Grace, how is it possible that you are now here? And why does that young man on top of that terrifying dragon claim to be your son?" Ser Alliser inquired, in a voice again cold and hard, but devoid of disgust present at first. Rather, it expressed doubt and disbelief and a certain bitter aftertaste.

“Indeed he claims to be, because he is the only male child I had ever had, Aegon Targaryen. Regarding your other question, we cannot answer it ourselves exactly, but what I can assure you is that although I am now back among mortals, I passed away, as did my wife and mother of my son."Rhaegar replied with a melodious but urgent voice, denoting her husband's lack of patience in face of the black brother's questioning.

After that, Rhaegar hardened his posture, straightening up to at least a head up from the old Knight, fixing his infinite blazing black eyes that had always captivated Lyanna, in the old loyalist. It was an intense and somewhat threatening look.

"For the same reason, Aegon is head of house Targaryen. If you want to use titles with me, better use my usual titles as always, because in the end I've never been, nor will be king. I am Prince, therefore if you like Ser, you may refer to me by _Your Excellence_ , but _His Grace_ is my son. We only come to accompany _His Grace_. This young man who has announced us, is my squire and nephew, _Prince_ Brandon Stark. This fierce girl is my niece _Princess_ Arya Stark and this is my only and legitimate wife, Princess Lyanna Targaryen, sister here of the _first ranger_ Benjen Stark." Lyanna’s husband said coldly and with a certain edge of aggressiveness in his voice, which seemed to admit no more questions from the black brother.

The old knight did not seem to take the hint, for he shook his head as he tensed. “But how is it possible? And all the stories of the Rebellion? ... And this Aegon, where has he been hiding all this time? What do you mean your only male child?” Ser Alliser said in a confused and stunned voice, looking between Lyanna and Aegon. " _Your Excellence_ , if you'll excuse me, I am unable to understand anything. Especially what are you doing claiming like _Prince and Princess of Westeros_ to two of the children of one of the _Usurper's dogs_."

The coldness, disgust and bitterness turned to make clear, both in the voice and in the body and facial gestures of the old knight. Before Rhaegar, Aegon or she could intervene; little Arya quickly stopped the old loyalist Targaryen in his tracks.

"EYYY! MY FATHER IS NO ONE'S DOG! HE WAS DECEIVED AS GREAT PART OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS WAS AND STILL HE TAKE CARE OF THE LAST DESCENDANT OF VALYRIA MAKING HIM BE MY BROTHER! IF YOU DARE TO INSULT MY FAMILY AGAIN, YOU WILL SEE THE POINTY END OF MY NEEDLE!” Said her niece screaming, at the same time that she tried to make a threatening face. Meanwhile, Arya made a pretense of bringing her left hand to the hilt of her braavosi-type sword.

Aegon without Lyanna noticing, had descended from Balerion and approached Rhaegar observing everything with his cold black eyes pierced by sparkling gray and purple flashes, sometimes so distant from everything around them that they seemed to be looking at more than a thousand meters.

However with Arya's comment, Lya’s son eyes began to glow with glee like two purple sparks in the twilight under the _Wall_.

Her son, her brother Benjen and her husband, all three by now accustomed to Arya's ways, practically fell to the ground with laughter when they saw Ser Alliser's face of disbelief at the slipstream of little Arya, who with barely one and ten days of her name already had a character almost more pronounced than hers at that age. ‘ _Poor Ned, in a way the gods were ironic in giving him a copy of me, but more stubborn and wild as daughter. Arya would never have eloped with Rhae like I did for love. Arya would have run off to Essos and founded her own mercenary company.’_ Maybe spending time with her helped Arya develop certain femininity totally absent from her niece ' _Although who am I to claim what is feminine and what is not, when I found the love of my life fighting him?_ '

Before the situation could escalate more, her brother Benjen tried to put peace. “Come on Thorne bugg of, _your silver prince_ is here and you want to offend him just back from the dead? The past is past. I don't know, nor do I care why they are back here, nor what they do with the dragons. But we swear our vows and we do not intervene in the _Seven Kingdoms_ conflicts. They have come under the peace banner to ask for an audience and that is what we have to do.” spoke half mockingly, half laconically Benjen.

Despite that, the knight continued to stare at her in anger and disgust, evidently blaming her for the _rebellion_. Therefore, she decided to defend herself.

Advancing in the direction of the knight until she was just five meters from him, Lyanna steeled her posture and began to look back at him, but cautiously and surely showing no matter how much she didn't want to, guilt over what happened almost sixteen years ago.

“Ser, I assure you, that it was never my intention to cause a war in the kingdoms, nor did I try to steal Rhaegar from anyone. The story is much simpler, but at the same time much more complex. If you want to blame me, it's your right. But what do you need to know, is that sooner or later, the seven damn _Rebellion_ would have broken out. Rhaegar and I, unconsciously were the trigger for it, and for that is why that on behalf of house Stark and of house Targaryen, I want to apologize because our actions, indirectly lead to your exile at the Wall.” Lyanna said with a voice loaded with guilt that she felt herself.

Not a few times she circled and hovered in her head, what would be the vision that the side of the loyalists in the rebellion would have of her ‘ _Now I_ _have resolved the doubt_ _and by Ser Alliser's first reaction, one side made me a martyr and the other a climbing whore_.'

Aegon, her son, feeling that she was affected by the disapproving look, despite the apologies offered, decided to end the introductions and take command of the conversations.

“Ser Alliser" said Aegon icily, with a harsh and threatening tone, closing his gaze on the black brother. “My father has offered explanations of who we are, as well as what we came to do to the _Wall_. For her part, my mother has apologized for the problems that according to your consideration or imagination, she may have caused in her life.” Lya’s boy said contemptuously and without patience.

Aegon's gaze seemed to be piercing Ser Alliser's head right now. “I will not tolerate a contemptuous comment, look or gesture made to my mother or to anyone in my family while we are here. I remind you, that just as you are a sworn brother of the Watch and have your vows and words, I am a Targaryen. Do you know my words?” ended dryly and curtly her son, a threat rather than a question. As Aegon spoke each word, Balerion rose and stretched behind him, placing its snout on top of Aegon, right in front of Ser Alliser.

The knight’s reaction was to have portrayed him. Suddenly his skin turned as pale as the snow that surrounded them, while a layer of cold sweat began to show on the forehead. Thorne tried to answer something, his gaze darting between Lyanna, Aegon and the _Black Dread_ , but the black brother seemed unable to utter a word.

Seeing the situation, she tried to seize the moment to pity the terrified knight. Lyanna approached her son, who took her arm gently squeezing it and looked at her sweetly.

"Aegon, I'm sure that Ser Alliser was just surprised by the sudden situation and from now on there will be no more problems." Lya finished saying to her son, to stop by staring at Thorne "Isn't that right Ser?" Lyanna tried to tell it without being too arrogant about how the tables had turned, although the best Lyanna managed was that did not get a wry smile. The black brother began to nod as if his life depended on it, then he walked at a brisk but stumbling pace towards Castle Black, possessed by a state of half shock, half panic.

"Whoops! I never imagined that my nephew who was hiding around the corners of Winterfell would be able to piss the pants of knights harder than the leather of the armor of the Watch. HA! Now that you have a dragon, aren't you going to hug your uncle? “Her brother Benjen intervened in a totally relaxed tone, totally dissipating the tense situation that had been created.

Aegon's mask fell off to one of affection, but with some suspicion. ‘ _Without a doubt they still have to talk about the past and if Benjen did know who his mother was'_ thought Lyanna as she watched Aegon and Benjen give each other a manly hug. Then Arya and Bran pounced on their uncle, whom they almost threw to the ground.

"Jikagon naejot ēdrugon [1]” Aegon said softly to _Balerion_ , an order that Rhaegar reiterated with Vhagar. As both dragons took momentum with their gigantic wings to soar, save for her son Aegon, the rest of them fell from the force of these flapping against the wind, causing a general familiar laugh before heading towards Castle Black.

* * *

[Recommendation of songs for this part of the episode, in order of appearance

A Bear and The Maiden Fair https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZSr27GQq7w

The Dornishman's Wife https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jezXjW1-Wd4

The Ballad of Danny Flint https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCR8ysSmkB0]

* * *

** Twenty-ninth day of the fifth moon of 297AC. Castle Black, North of Westeros. **

On the second day of their arrival at Castle Black, her son Aegon, together with her nephew Bran and her brother Benjen, set out as best they could on top of Balerion, towards the westernmost castle of the Wall, the Shadow Tower. They went there in search of a ranger of the watch named Qhorin, who according to her brother Benjen would surely know where was the site of the visions that Egg had during the ritual that brought her husband, her son and herself back to life.

At first Aegon had planned to pick up Benjen, and with Bran, cross to the other side of the _Wall_. In this way, taking advantage of the fact that they could search from the heights, they would use _Balerion_ as a method of transportation to search for the gigantic Weirdwood Tree of the vision.

However the plan soon proved unworkable, when the dragons refused to fly over or cross the _Wall_. The only solution left for them if Aegon intended to continue using the Black Terror was to go around the Wall to one end, and then cross to the other side. Because of this, Benjen suggested that they could pass over the _Shadow Tower_ to enlist the help of this Qhorin, apparently the best ranger in the watch, who could have a clear idea of where would be the place that was keeping Lya’s son awake in the nights.

She along with her husband Rhaegar, her niece Arya and the Direwolfs were left to wait in Castle Black. Supposedly for protection against what could be on the other side of the _Wall_ , as their son Egg explained. That the wolves did not go with him also was justified it as a method of protection against the brothers of the Watch _'The black brothers should be very crazy to try to do something to Arya or me. Not only do we have four Direwolfs defending us ... Although it is a first for him, Rhaegar is now a Dragonrider ... and if I know anything about Rhae, he would melt the wall to get revenge if something happened to his niece or to me._ ' Lyanna thought as she watched from the window of their rooms in the _King’s Tower_ , how Rhaegar riding Vhagar returned high in the sky from the location where _Mole's Town_ stood.

Rhaegar had decided to dedicate part of his free time to improving the ability to control and the bond with the dragon that once belonged to Visenya. Little by little, in his short flights between Castle Black and Mole's Town, it seemed that he was getting it.

Although without reaching the level of fluidity in the movements that Meraxes had, still without anyone to ride it _'or precisely because of that Meraxes fly in that way'_ o or with the elegance and ease that Lya’s son did. ' _After all, Egg has been flying in Balerion for twenty-two years. Rhaegar does not even reach a fortnight._ ’ 

Her husband by now, would have been awake for hours, however Arya was just awake and Lyanna had barely finished dressing. But it was part of the routine they had set for themselves since the second day of their presence on the _Wall_ , at the recommendation of Lord Commander Jeor Mormont.

Life at Castle Black followed certain patterns; the mornings were for the training of the new recruits and the brothers, the afternoons for the work in the Castle and on the wall. Because she and her niece were women, it was in the afternoons that she and Arya were able to show themselves more in public, as there were fewer black brothers idling than in the mornings.

Shortly after she and Arya woke up each afternoon in the rooms of the _King's Tower_ , they ate breakfast brought by the _Lord Steward,_ Bowen Marsh, himself, after which Lyanna and Arya dedicated themselves to training with swords and bows under the supervision of Rhaegar, and sometimes accompanied by the shy Samwell Tarly. In the mornings, Rhaegar also occasionally participated in the training of the new recruits and the black brothers.

The man who knelt before her husband that first day in the _Wall_ , Ser Alliser Thorne, was Castle Black's master of arms. From the moment Aegon convinced Thorne’s of the upcoming Targaryen restoration and review of penalties during the regime change, he became something akin of a _Kings guard_ to Rhaegar, Arya, and Lyanna herself.

Along with him, Ser Jaremy Rykker, was also part of the improvised _Kings guard_ , which at no time stopped having them watched even from a distance. In addition to the two knights, the Lord Steward, took care of all their needs and the new recruits not yet sworn, Grenn, Pyp and Samwell Tarly were part of the small entourage they had in Castle Black.

Furthermore, Ser Alliser allowed Rhaegar to take over the morning training sessions, when he joined them, under the pretext that who better than the gifted student of the _Sword of Dawn_ to teach those useless recruits. _‘At times I do not know if that is done out of deference to Rhae, or because simply, Thorne is a man incapable of teaching anything to anyone due to the abruptness and lack of tact in his ways.'_

Lyanna considered that Ser Alliser was a man who never might like her, or even inspire empathy in her, but Lyanna could respect his principles and honor. _‘Ser Alliser preferred to end up on the Wall than serving with Robert's whoremonger. At least, that speaks something in the old and sour knight favor.’_

After training and changing, Lya and Arya used to head before dinner to the Maester's rooms. There among the venerable Aemon, the young but clever Tarly and her husband, Arya and Lyanna were being subjected to a crash course in how a _Crown Prince of Westeros_ should be raised.

If something her son had made clear is that all those who were accompanying him on his campaigns, regardless of age or gender, would share responsibilities and command with him. Therefore, they must at least have the same educational foundations as Rhaegar, Aegon, or Maester Aemon.

Since Bran by default was always going to be attached to Aegon or Rhaegar, they took it for granted that he would learn from the two of them as he went along, but she and her niece had to take advantage of their stay at the _Wall_. To be instructed at forced marches. They were to study _High Valyrian_ , the history of house Targaryen, the history of _Essos_ and _Westeros_ , as well as current and historical political notions and institutions on both continents. Almost every night, after dinner in the common room and while Rhaegar slept, she and Arya stayed awake under the light of candles and oil lamps, studying the topics that the next day their _mentors_ would ask and correct.

And so they had been for eight days and nights. And now this one, was the ninth.

One of the few good things that Lyanna found in the frozen castle was the endless conversations with her great-great-uncle-in-law, Aemon. The Maester was an inexhaustible source of knowledge and good advice, who knew first-hand the history of the last hundred years. In addition, at no time did he point to her as the cause of the near extinction of house Targaryen. On the contrary, both she and little Arya were welcomed with open arms, as if they were Aemon’s family.

' _To think that my father wanted to use me as a political piece to end all of them and that my escape with Rhae almost succeeded in that..._ 'she mused guiltily to herself whenever the old maester smiled at Lya, or had words of warmth and comfort for her. For that reason, Lyanna tried to make time almost every night after dinner before came back to her rooms, whenever the old master did his duty, to along with Arya, read him light stories from the chair near his bed in the maester’s rooms in the sturdy wooden fortress, which it housed the aviary on its roof.

Turning inside of their rooms, Lya turned to see her niece, who was already fully dressed and continuing to play with the three Direwolf pups, which seemed to grow by day. They were still far from Winter's size, but they already looked like medium-grown dogs. _'Soon they won't be able to ride the dragons either, just like Winter'_ thought as she looked at them.

"Arya, are you ready? Rhaegar is coming back from his flights, so I think we should go heading towards the courtyard.” Lyanna said jovially to her niece.

“Yes aunt Lya, I'm ready. Today I'm going to beat you in archery, you'll see!“Arya uttered excitedly.

Although aunt and niece were both even in the sword wielding, Lya’s greater height allowed her to hold the bow more efficiently than Arya's, favoring her aim, much to the irritation of her ultra-competitive niece.

"We'll see... I'm not going to give you the award, so you'll have to improve a lot." Lya said sticking out her tongue, in clear defiance.

Before the end of each training, when Arya and Lyanna already had their arms that could hardly move them from the weight of the wooden swords with which they trained, Rhaegar made them participate in marksmanship competitions. The way that both consented to continue exercising their exhausted arms after each sword session was her husband's promise that the one of the two who won the most times at the end of the stay at the _Wall_ , would receive a reward according to her talent.

This incentive favored the existence of a healthy competition between her and her niece Arya, to see who would win the mysterious trophy. ' _However, except the fourth day, I have always beaten Arya. In case I win, I must give her what Rhaegar gives me._ ' thought as she followed her niece shot out with the wolves at her trail, down the stairs to the oak's heavy double door, guarded by Ser Jaremy.

When the knight from the _Crownlands_ saw her, he bowed his head and began to follow her about five paces away, while her she-wolf Winter made it more distant, about fifteen.

When they reached the courtyard, where her husband was supposed to be waiting for them, the only thing she found were the training dummys and the targets, but except for that, totally deserted.

“Arya, stay here with the wolves and Ser Jaremy. I'm going to go and ask the sentry on duty if Rhaegar has already returned, and if so, if he has any idea where my husband is.“ Lya said to Arya and the black brother, while pointing towards a black brother who was near the door.

There she found that the brother in question was 'Dolorous' Edd, one of the brothers who had received them with open arms _'Or rather he had accepted them because he was terrified on the grounds that two of them were people who had returned to life after fifteen years dead and looking the same as they had before their death. As if that were not enough, there was always the fear of possible reprisals from dragons and wolve_ s.‘

Before turning to Edd, she looked west; ‘ _sunset is_ _approaching, and Arya and I have to train’_ she thought impatiently in view of Rhaegar's absence.

"Edd could you find _His Excellence_ my husband, for me and my niece." Lyanna said in a close and friendly voice to the sarcastic black brother, while with her eyes she pointed to the wooden sword in her hand.

"Yes. Not a problem _Your Excellence_. Surely the _Prince_ will be downstairs with the books ..." answered the black brother, after which bowed slightly.

"My old Septon used to say that books are dead men speaking. Dead men must keep silent, is what I say. Nobody wants to listen to the delusions of a dead man." Edd went muttering, his _sorrows_ , in the direction of where he thought Lya’s husband was. After that Lyanna went back to Arya and Ser Jaremy.

“Your uncle is locked up with the books again… I imagine it will take a while. What do you say if we change our wooden swords for steel ones and test them against the dummys?“ She told Arya, who quickly got rid of her wooden sword to go running for her _Needle_ and Lya’s still unnamed sword that were in the Noye’s forge next to them.

Turning to the knight, who seemed to remain totally unfazed despite Winter's presence less than a meter from him, Lyanna looked at him with warmth and closeness, smiling at him as she walked over to him.

“Ser Jaremy, could you correct our stances for us when we're at it? I know it goes way out of your duty as brother of the watch by a lot, but it is beginning to dusk and I don't know how much more time my niece and I will have to polish at least the basics to defend ourselves.”Lya said with a warm and persuasive voice.

The Knight of the _Crownlands_ grinned from ear to ear, a smile that reached his eyes. “Without a doubt, _Your Excellence_. It will be a pleasure for me to be able to boast one day that I helped improve the legendary _Knight of the Laughing Tree_ and supervised the first blows with a sword of a Princess of the Realm." Ser Jaremy said in a voice that mixed illusion with honor.

 _’I think that if I ask him to go to Kings Landing and finish off Robert, he would not hesitate for a second to break his Night's Watch vows_ ' Lyanna thought with some joy to see that even after the defeat in the Rebellion, and despite the exile imposed by the victors, there were men capable of giving their lives for the Targaryen cause _'My Cause'_.

And so, when Arya returned, they got down to work, under the watchful eye of Ser Jaremy, who from time to time recommended a different footing or stance, which would allow them a better angle in their blows towards the enemy.

Both Lyanna and her niece had the same type of physical complexion, and despite the current difference in height, it was possible that Arya also reached and exceed the five feet in height. Both had swords shorter than a long sword, but longer than a short sword, with the addition of having extremely thin blades.

Therefore, they had to develop practically their own fighting styles, based on general advice from the typical fighting styles in _Westeros_. Their was never going to be the _Westerosi_ steel fight, the knight's fight, where one cuts and hammers, no. The two of them must almost learn to dance with their fine swords, a sudden, fast dance. They had to be fast enough to pierce the unprotected points of their attackers, but at the same time agile enough to stay in stances and footing that would allow them to quickly dodge the opponent's attacks. Maximizing their virtues of small size and speed, while minimizing their absence of strength and power against men.

 _'At least thanks to Ser Jaremy, today we will have someone with some idea of what we can be doing right or wrong ... to know when Rhaegar will come if they have discovered a manuscript from_ _two thousand_ _years ago_.' Lyanna sighed with some resignation before one of the things that made her husband the special person he was.

Rhaegar spent all the time that he was not training or with her and Arya, in the library with his great-great-uncle Aemon, reading old manuscripts, some of them from _Old Valyria_ itself and related to the legend of the _long night_ and the prophecy of Azor Ahai, as well of history of house Targaryen.

The arrival of the insecure and timid Samwell Tarly one of the mornings that Rhaegar was conducting training for the new recruits turned out to be a blessing in disguise. If there was anyone who could be more bookish than Rhaegar, it was the fat lad from _Horn Hill_.

Thanks to the influence with Ser Alliser, Rhaegar first managed to convince Castle Black's Master at Arms that Tarly was unfit material to train, at least through conventional methods, and then convince Tarly himself to wait for swear his vows with the Watch, at least until the return of her son Aegon. She knew perfectly well that Rhaegar intended to make Tarly the Steward of Aemon, as well as a kind of link of the Targaryen house on the _wall_ , sworn not to the Night's Watch, but to house Targaryen, represented in the figure by Aegon. Hence, until he returned, Rhaegar could not fully develop his plan.

For her part, what Lyanna wants is to ask Aegon to take them to _Horn Hill_ and use Balerion to burn the evil-born Randyll Tarly in his own castle. Because that's what a bastard like him deserved.

 _‘If I thought my father was bad ... For the old and new Gods, threaten his own son with death for not being a warrior but an intellectual.’_ she thought with a certain joy to learn that Rhaegar had sheltered young Tarly under his wing.

In a way it reminded Lyanna of her and the relationship with Howland in the now so distant Tourney, which to her was still as if it had been yesterday. Also, thanks to the fact that neither she nor Arya scared him, the plump lad timidly joined their sparring sessions, and even in the archery. The latter something in which both Rhaegar and Maester Aemon had insisted Tarly ‘ _Whether you are the heir or not, at least you must know how to use your bow_ ’ and with those simple words, Tarly generally participated alongside she and Arya in their particular marksmanship contest.

Furthermore Rhaegar showed infinite patience with the boy ’ _Something tells me, if it wasn't for having read Visenya's seven times cursed prophecy, he would have ended up being someone like_ that' Lyanna laughed internally at imagining a plump and cowardly Rhaegar.

Although she and her niece did not really understand why most of their training did not consist of crossing swords between them, most of these consisted of learning to maintain footings and stances, facing each other. Performing over and over again, always in the same order and pattern, the same series of steps and movements.

Based on this, they had to know how to act and react to the enemy's movements. Rhaegar always insisted that the key to be a great warrior was to always be able to stand upright, firm and stable in support. That way one could face any rival stance. If one was unbalanced, it was very easy to throw you to the ground and then be seriously or fatally injured. Lya and Arya had to take advantage of their small size and speed, to leave as a sieve and defeat enemies superior to them in strength, who would never expect such abilities from them. Therefore, Rhaegar always insisted that it was fundamental for both of them, that they have great mastery of their stances. In the same way, he insisted on the knowledge and use of the space that surrounded them, to be able to dodge, move quickly and always be firmly supported on the feet.

Before she and Arya knew it, it was dark. Rhaegar hadn't come in the end and _Lord Steward_ Marsh had come to advise them that dinner would be ready shortly in the common room, where Rhaegar and Maester Aemon were waiting for them. After giving Ser Jaremy permission to go directly to the common room, she, Arya, and the wolves made their way to the rooms in the King's Tower, where they quickly stripped off their training clothes, to simply put on their tunics strung with breeches of wool and boots, with the cloaks crossed on the chest from shoulder to waist.

Arya finished before her, so she gave her permission to go with the pups to the living room, but only if she did not stop along the way.

“Arya, I'll leave you if you promise me that you'll go from here to the table where your uncle is. I know that nothing has happened to us for now and that we have a certain sense of security, but prevention will never hurt.” Lya told her niece with a concern that she did not know she could have for another person.

 _'And not just because of the fury I might have to face from my son Aegon and my brother Ned… no… just like for Aegon I would give and gave my life, for my niece Arya I would too. It is for her that we have to fight to make a better world'_ she thought as looked at Arya on which her right hand was resting on Arya’s left shoulder.

Arya made him the biggest eyes she could muster, without a doubt feeling the affection behind Lyanna’s sincere concern. "I promise you aunt. From here I'll go straight to uncle's table. I will be fine, you'll see. Jon will be back soon, with Bran and Uncle Benjen and we will all be together again. But even though I miss Jon and Bran, I like being with you. Believe it or not, I love you a lot aunt and the last thing I want, is to cause you displeasure. Also, tomorrow I have to beat you with the bow ”Arya said in a low tone, almost embarrassed. After her words, Arya put Lya’s arm aside to catch her above her waist and hug her with such force that it almost took the air out of Lya’s lungs.

“I love you too Arya. Together with Aegon, you are like an extension of me. From the first night It feel right that I feel like this towards you, and I will do everything in my power to protect you and take care of you ... But don't expect to ever beat me at the bow." Lyanna said almost crying and with a broken voice at first, to finish jokingly and ruffling Arya’s hair.

After making a face at her, Arya left the rooms and Lya finished adjusting her cloak and tried to compose herself a bit. ' _I don't know if it's the nerves for Aegon and the ones with him, the guilt of feeling responsible for good men like Ser Jaremy losing everything for my crazy plan, the fear of losing everything I've suddenly found I have, the stored memories of the year of false spring or anger towards a series of people in Westeros, whom for many years and if everything goes according to plan, will not be able to feel my wrath._ ' What Lya knew for sure was that underneath from her smiling and willful facade, she had an internal conflict about to erupt.

Since the night Aegon left with Benjen and Bran, Lyanna, Arya, and Rhaegar had eaten at a corner table in the brothers' dinner room. That night seemed an exception. As she entered saw Rhaegar sitting at the head of a table near the roaring fire in the fireplace. At her husband left were Samwell Tarly, Ser Jaremy Rykker, and Ser Alliser Thorne. At Rhaegar’s right there was a free place for her, and then were Arya and Maester Aemon sat on the long bench.

That night, Hobb Three Fingers prepared a special meal for the exceptional guests to celebrate the occasion of the Watch’s _friendship_ with the _Dragons_. When Lyanna reached the common room, the _Lord Steward_ himself led her to the bench near the fire.

The seven members of the _royal table_ would feast on lamb baked in a garlic and herb crust, garnished with sprigs of mint, and surrounded by mashed yellow turnips swimming in butter. "From the Lord Commander's own table." Bowen Marsh told her before she sat down. There were spinach and chickpea salads and turnip greens, and then bowls of frozen blueberries and sweet cream.

"Uncle Aemon, do you think it will take long fo them to come back?" Arya asked the old maester seated at Lya’s right while Arya stuffed food into her mouth. _‘If one thing Arya is enjoying about our stay on the Wall, it's the disappearance of all etiquette at lunchtime. By the old Gods, even my Brandon didn't eat that fiercely! Another of the family with wolf-blood!'_

The Maester turned his white eyes to Arya, smiling as he spoke in a voice that pretended to be tired. "I hope so. I'm sick of having to answer your questions about the Targaryen lore. Certainly your cousin Aegon or your uncle Rhaegar could answer them better than me, even here our young Tarly. In these days, your uncle and I have discovered that everything that he does not have as a warrior, he has it as an intellectual."

At the praise of the old Targaryen, Tarly turned the color of the dragons of the Targaryen sigil _‘If it weren't for Rhae, who knows what a man like Thorne would do with poor Samwell._ ’ Lyanna thought as watched the look of disgust the weathered knight gave Tarly, whom surely he considered a coward for being unable to wield a weapon.

Faced with the obvious discomfort of being looked at around the table, and even by recruits and brothers from others, Lyanna decided to take Tarly out of focus a bit. “My dear Uncle Aemon, it is not good to despise someone's combat skills because they seem non-existent. I am convinced that with the necessary motivation and someone capable of finding a way to teach him to trust in his ability in the martial arts, he could do it just as well as anyone else in the Watch ” Lya said smiling and knowingly as she looked at Samwell who was sitting opposite her. It was a way of reassuring him that nothing was wrong because he was still unable to use a sword or a bow, as Tarly could always learn.

"But Alas! My dear niece Lyanna, not all of us have the courage to put on armor and get on tourney lists as a mystery knight. And sometimes it is not courage, if not unconsciousness that leads to taking up arms..." the old maester answered her as he paused to look at her with a look, which despite not seeing anything, seemed to bare all the fears present in her soul.

"Although my father Maekar never saw it that way, I was always of the opinion that with knowledge and words, no more swords would be needed...Maybe in the future our dear Samwell will surprise us and find a way to find such a solution." the maester said with a certain reproach at first, like a paternal reproach, to end up praising Tarly even more, who no longer knew where to go.

"A coward can be as brave as any man, when there is nothing to fear. And we all do our duty, when it costs nothing. How easy it seems, then, to walk the path of honor. However, sooner or later, in the life of every man and woman there comes a day when it is not easy, a day when he or she must choose.” after which words Aemon fixed his milky gaze on Rhaegar.

Noticing as well as Lyanna, where the old maester was headed and also perceiving that his intellectual protégé was uncomfortable, Rhaegar returned to the topic of the conversation that Arya had started when Lyanna has arrived.

Looking with tenderness and warmth at Lyanna’s pretty little niece, Rhaegar tried to reassure the well-being of Aegon, Bran and Benjen.

“Answering your original question, my _byka sōnar dārilaros_ Arya, I think we will have some news from them soon.” Rhaegar told her in his warmest and sweetest voice.

"Hey! We're not in lessons!" Arya responded to the way in which Rhaegar had chosen to address to Arya in _High Valyrian_ ‘ _His little winter princess'_

Arya's response caused laughter among those present at the table, already used to the ways of her sometimes adorable niece. Rhaegar took advantage of the calming of laughter and humorous comments, to continue reassuring Arya about the state in which the family that had departed _north of the wall_ would be.

"It's been more than a week since the departed. Counting on them making long stops like we did to come here, they may have already covered great distances. And from Aegon's descriptions, it was a place that from the height of a dragon should be hard to miss." the tone her husband Rhaegar voice, as always with Arya, was melodious and metallic, inspiring confidence talking.

With Arya, Lya’s husband showed a tenderness in the gestures and forms, that except with Lyanna herself or when Rhaegar spoke of Rhaenys, seems unable to show. _'If I see Arya as a little sister, there is no doubt that Rhaegar sees her as a little daughter. When he teaches her lessons with the sword, he always restrains himself, something he does not do with me.’ At that_ thought as her heart melted as Lya imagined having a daughter of her own with Rhaegar.

Although the idea of going through childbirth again, it was something that sincerely terrified her so much, that was one of the reasons why she had not yet sought any intimacy with Rhaegar.

 _'What happen if I can't give him more children? We only know for sure, that Aegon and Rhaegar remain alive to be able to prolong with the centenary dynasty. I cannot again be a reason to drive the Targaryen to the brink of their extinction.’_ It was a thought that had become recursive since the first afternoon after her return to life, when she saw Rhaegar practicing with her nephew Bran, and it was something that was practically taking her to the edge of inner madness.

 _'Since I have come back to life I am more like Rhaegar before his death than he is now. I spend the day thinking about everything that could go wrong and everything that went wrong ... what happens if it happens again, what happens if we die again?_ ' try as she might, there were times when these thoughts practically blocked her.

Fortunately, the torrent of daily activity in which they had been immersed since their return to life, allowed Lyanna to hide her internal fears as fatigue and re-accustoming to life. ‘ _But I don't know how long it will take for me to explode and release everything that is inside me'_

Without possibly anyone except Maester Aemon noticing, she sighed and steeled her position, noticing that by mentioning the word dragon, the two recruits and the brother from the neighboring table had joined at the end of their own table.

These were the other members of their informal routine; Edd, Grenn, and Pyp. And they were looking at Lya’s husband in the same way that Ser Jaremy, Ser Alliser, young Tarly and even Maester Aemon himself looked at Rhaegar.

"Well, since no one asks him, I'll be the one to do it. If later _his excellence_ gives me as dinner for the enormous orange beast and the leftovers for his wife's wolf you know it's your fault" said in a scathing and cynical tone _Dolorous_ _Edd_ , as he looked at Grenn and Pyp. After that, the black brother cleared his throat, looked at Rhaegar and bowed the head slightly, which Rhaegar returned by raising his horn with the unpalatable ale of the _Night's Watch_.

The brothers, relaxed after dinner and with a few mugs of ale on top ' _The only way to tolerate the ale and mead from the Wall is to drink so much of them that you wouldn't notice the donkey piss you are drinking'_ began to sing provocative and typical songs from Westeros.

Dareon, one of the new sworn brothers, with little to none talent for music and as a bard in Lyanna's opinion, had a lute that he did not hesitate to use to liven up the evening with a song so well known in all corners of the continent as was the bear and the maid. This was followed by a round of "Yayyyy" by the drunker brothers of the watch.

" A bear there was,

A bear, a bear ... "

Now Edd had to clear his throat and raise the volume of his voice in order to continue with the question he intended to ask, due to the increasing cacophony in the Castle Black common room courtesy of those who joined the song sung by Dareon.

"Your Excellence, I think I speak on behalf of everyone at this table. What does it feel like when one is on top of such creatures?" Edd asked with a certain fascination on his face, something that was imitated by almost everyone present at the long table, except for Arya and her.

"All black and brown

And covered in hair "

"My good Edd, the truth is that I could not answer that question exactly, because I am very afraid that even neither my niece, nor my wife, who have been on the back of one of the dragons would be able to explain the sensations experienced by being flying at more than two thousand meters high.” said Lyanna’s husband with a relaxed and slippery voice, something totally unusual for him. _'It is clear that I am not the only one who today wants the head to take the night off thanks to the ale or mead. Between the colors of Rhae’s cheeks and his thick tongue when speaks, I could tell that Rhaegar has drunk enough to be a little tipsy._ ' Lyanna thought as Rhaegar looked first at Arya and then to her, as if searching for an assertion of what he was saying.

"Three boys, a goat

And a dancing bear

They danced and spun

Up to the fair ”

“I don't know my niece, or my husband, but I at least know that it is something indescribable. It is a mixture of infinite power and freedom… It is like owning the world in your hand. Sadly, unlike as with our wolves, dragons have any bond with Arya or me, so I take it for granted that both _His Grace_ my son, and here _His Excellence_ , my husband, must be better able to explain that bond. Isn't that so Rhaegar?" she asked her husband, with a raised eyebrow. _'They have asked him, to answer him.'_

"How sweet she was

And pure and fair

The maid with honey

Up in her hair "

“Without a doubt, my wife is right. But honestly, it is something inexplicable. I can only say that I can understand why it is said that the lords of _Old Valyria_ did not answer to men, nor to Gods." Said Rhaegar, with a half smile and opening his arms forward. Meanwhile, Rhaegar’s eyes roamed those present at the table, seeing that the answer did not really answer them anything, he decided to continue with his explanation.

"I have smelled her all

On the summer air

The maid with honey

Up in her hair "

“By bonding with a dragon, you do it for life. And it is a connection that at times is even scary to have, due to the destructive power that it is capable of generate and that nurtures you. We've all seen the _Black Dread_ , or at least everyone here except for Sam. Seeing it, the destruction it caused in Harrenhal is understandable ... I don't even want to imagine the hell in what they turned the _Field of Fire_ into between the three dragons.” Rhaegar finished making a face in pain, causing the members of the table to fall into reflexive silence.

 _‘I have no doubt that Rhaegar has some reluctance about the _Conqueror's_ actions, reluctance that he certainly extends to our Aegon’s.' _she thought when remembered the pale face that had been put on her husband the first night in their back to life, when Aegon accused him of not solving the problem of the Kingdoms by being soft when dealing with the Great Westerosi Nobility.

' _My son is much more ruthless than his father. The calm and normality in which he spoke about the fate of the Hoare house, Durradon and Gardener still gives me chills when remembering it..._ ' But also was a thought about how far Aegon could go to ensure their triumph and the family protection ' _Unfortunately for all us, our future victory is closely related to our survival and the destruction of our enemies. And that is something very clear to Aegon. I don't know if Rhaegar will have it so clear._ '

"From there to here

From here to there

All black and brown

And covered in hair "

“Dear nephew, I notice certain contempt for what our ancestor did, or as he claims, your own son, in Harrenhal and in the _Field of Fire_. But what would you have done instead? Is it better to kill tens of thousands of soldiers, mostly low-born people and peasants who change the hoe for the spear, or is it preferable to set a precedent by way of warning to avoid massacres in the future?” Maester Aemon asked with a serious face, but not without affection. There was no reproach in his words.

Lyanna could sense that the maester was genuinely curious to know how Rhaegar would have acted in the situations that the _Conqueror_ faced. Both Ser Alliser and Ser Jaremy seemed to have a keen interest in the answer as well.

"Uncle, I have not faced such situations ..." tried to explain Rhaegar, but it seemed that his elderly great-uncle wanted to give a little lesson to Rhaegar ‘Unbeknownst to him, increasing my sense of guilt for the failure of my husband ... If it had not been for me ... Rhaegar would have been King before the Rebellion broke out, having a position of greater power than he had when he headed towards the Trident.' Lyanna bitterly thought to herself, as she moved uncomfortably on the bench.

"Alas! you are wrong my dear nephew! Sixteen years ago you were in the same situation and it seems that your methods were not as effective as those of the _Conqueror_ ... Maybe you forgot that the price of rule is that you cannot stay good with everyone and that all action you take, it will be put in question. Although I defend peace, I have no doubt that I would have taken the same resolution as my young nephew Aegon before Harren the Black.” said the old maester, causing a tense silence at the table, only broken by the noise that caused the end of the song that Dareon was singing.

"He smelled that girl

In summer air

The bear, the bear

And maiden fair

Oh i'm a maid

And I'm pure and fair

I'll never dance

With a hairy bear "

"Yaaay"

Seeing the general degeneration in the mood of the hall, Lyanna decided to take the opportunity to leave the _Common Hall_ and cool off in the night air next to the Wall, under the pretext of accompanying her niece Arya and her great-uncle-in-law to their respective rooms so that the former could resume her studies and the second will rest after a long day.

After that, she would return to be with her husband and the brothers of the guard at the _Common Hall_. 'Today I don't have the mind to dedicate myself to learning one more noble westerosi house. Maybe it's not a bad day to drown my sorrows in ale.' Lya thought as she looked for a way to stop feeling that anxiety and angst that was consuming her from within.

Returning to the common room, the atmosphere before distended was now totally festive. Almost all of the black brothers were totally drunk, taking advantage at the absence of most of the hierarchy. Ser Jaremy and Ser Alliser had retired, as had the _Lord Commander_ and the Lord Steward. The _First Builder_ was in a heated conversation with the master armorer Donal Noye, while some brothers sang the song that was playing in the background; song that for Lyanna’s surprise was being sung by her husband Rhaegar, who had taken the lute of Dareon and was finishing the sassy, but sad, song of the Dornishman’s Wife. 

"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done,

the Dornishman's taken my life,

But what does it matter, for all men must die ..."

Realizing that she had returned to the Common Hall again, sitting next to young Tarly, her husband stopped playing the song he was singing.

Posing sweetly those two black wells of ink that Rhaegar had for eyes on her, with a metallic voice, but at the same time melodious, Rhaegar began to sing an old and sad song, which plunged the common hall into the most absolute silence. Each chord that came out of the lute, was one impregnated with sadness;

“Hear you now the sad lament of Brave Young Danny Flint

Whose parents died of sickness, when she was not but ten

So off Young Danny went to live, with her wicked uncle

Who one night stole her maidenhead so into the North she fled

Oh Danny Flint you'll never escape The Fate the Gods have written

And life must seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

North she fled to take the Black and leave her troubles past

She cut her hair and changed her name to Danny Flint the Brave.

At the Night Fort Danny took the oath thought a boy by all

And she hoped to live forever as a Brother upon the Wall.

Oh Danny Flint you'll never escape The Fate the Gods have written

And life must seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

Now Danny was so diligent to keep from watchful stares

But one night as she bathed her Brothers saw her body bare.

These men were quick to break their vows as they threw her to the ground

They took her honor then her life while Danny made not a sound.

Oh Danny Flint there's no escape The Fate the Gods have written

And life does seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

It’s said Young Danny still yet walks The Night Fort's shadowy halls,

A pale form singing sorrowfully the loneliest saddest song."

With the song, all the pain that she had accumulated inside her, threatened to break the internal dams that Lyanna had been building during the last twelve days of her new life. Flashing before her eyes, she couldn't help but remember everything that had happened in her previous life since the Tourney of Harrenhal onwards till her death... Guilt, anxiety, overwhelm, doubts and fear caused Lyanna not to be able to bear being in the room anymore time.

Lyanna scrambled up from the bench, trying to hold back the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. She practically ran out of the common hall, not even knowing where she was going, until suddenly ran into Winter, who looked from the blood on the fur around her muzzle, had been hunting. When Lyanna saw her she-wolf, she couldn't help but hug her as if were a life-line.

When she calmed down a bit, she received a lick on her face, which served as a signal to get up from the snowy ground on which she was kneeling.

Together with her furry and faithful companion, went to the King's Tower again, where to Lya’s surprise, Ser Jaremy Rykker was at the door guarding her niece Arya.

When he saw her, he bowed his head slightly, opening the door that gave access to the damp old stone staircase to the rooms. Winter stayed on the other side of the door along with the exiled knight.

When Lya finished ascending the stairs and reaching the room where the three of them slept, she found that her niece Arya was deep sleep on mountains of parchments and books on the table that served as a desk. At her feet, the three pups were also completely asleep. Trying not to wake Arya, Lyanna grabbed her as gently as she could and laid her on the bed, then headed to the window to look into the cold night sky.

Lya needed to clear up somehow. Her head was boiling; If it was difficult for her to understand the situation in which she found herself after her strange come back, to find herself suddenly at the _Wall_ waiting to heard from her son, her nephew and her brother, together with all the memories and sorrows the song that Rhaegar had intoned awoke in her, it had caused a pain in her heart that she did not know she could have.

 _'The fear of not being able to have more children with Rhae, the fear of losing Aegon again or that he does not even need me are dead weights on my soul'_ reflected as she realized that without wanting to, she had begun to cry almost inconsolably.

She couldn't help feeling weak. She couldn't stop crying, but by all the gods, she couldn't tell if she was crying over Danny Flint's song, if she was crying over her death fifteen years ago, if she was crying over the death of her family and friends or if she was crying for what awaited them on the road ahead. All she knew was that she was scared and afraid of what the future and fate might bring. The only thing Lyanna knew is that she wanted her son to return and all that she knew was that she was afraid.

A few thumps drew her attention to the courtyard, where a figure wrapped in a black cloak with hood over it head, seemed to be lifting an object much heavier than it could lift.

Lyanna knew that in her state of mind she would not be able to sleep, so she went to the stay attached to the rooms, where Rhaegar had established a kind of King's solar. But when she opened the door, her husband was not asleep wrapped in parchments and books. There was no one. _'I'd better see if Ser Jaremy is down there to come with me for a ride. Maybe the cool will refresh me up and paralyze my grief._ '

Coming down the stairs, Lyanna could hear Ser Jaremy speaking from the other side of the door to someone she couldn't identify.

"You should have seen Renfred's face when I made that jape ..."

At the door opening from within, the black brother immediately fell silent. Seeing the scene, Lyanna understood why. 'It seems that Winter knows how to make friends with ease.' she thought inquisitive as contemplated her massive she-wolf sitting on its hindquarters, looking intently at Ser Jaremy, tongue lolling out and ears raised at the _Crownlands_ knight.

"Your Excellence... I didn't expect you to come out again for this night ..." an embarrassed Ser Jaremy immediately said with a trembling voice, then looked down at the ground, trying to camouflage the colors that had risen to his face. "Generally, your wolf usually comes at night ... and has turned out to be the woman who has endured me the most in my life HA!" Ser Jaremy laughed not without sadness.

"I see ... Well, if at any time you can get married, don't worry that I will try to intercede on your behalf with your loved.” she responded warmly and suggestively. Quickly recovering from her internal conflict, Lyanna decided that because she was bitter and angry with life, she didn't have to pay for it with Rykker.

"By any chance you have no idea where my husband is, right?" Lyanna asked the knight.

The Knight, instead of answering anything, directed his chin towards the courtyard of the castle, from which came a thud.

Nodding her head to the _Crownlands_ knight, she headed there and saw that Ser Jaremy was staying with Winter at the door of the King's Tower, so Lyanna immediately deduced that the one in the parade courtyard was Rhaegar.

When Lyanna arrived, saw Rhaegar with a kind of giant hammer, which he barely could lift beyond his waist, for then fell to the ground, where he was beginning to make a hole. _'I already understand what it was that thump noise that was heard and who the black hooded figure is.'_

"Rhae!" Lyanna said louder than she initially intended, drawing Rhaegar’s attention to her. Her husband immediately released the handle of the huge hammer, which remained perpendicular to the ground from the weight of its head.

Totally shaken and almost out of breath, Rhaegar looked at her and then where Lyanna was looking. With a totally relaxed attitude, far different from the image he used to show, with an almost innocent voice that still showed a certain excess of ale, Lya’s love quickly explained what he was doing.

“I don't know if you've seen the scene between the first builder and Donal Noye… the point is that I asked the master armorer this morning if he could make me a hammer like the one he made Robert… that way I can train my muscles and be at least a little stronger ...” her husband sighed and seemed to lose his gaze for a moment in the void, then to fix his gaze on her again.

“You should have seen it Lya ... I pierced him from shoulder to hip with my sword, but it looked like a mere scratch ... And from what Noye told me, his warhammer was even heavier than this ... I'm terrified to fail again ... It seems that those who now know the truth after the _Rebellion_ , the only thing they do is judge me as incapable and soft… you have already seen the opinion of our son and my uncle Aemon… “ after which Rhaegar let out a totally resigned sigh as she had never seen him do before. His voice carried a mixture of despondency and guilt. His bodily demeanor screamed defeat.

“Rhae, I'm scared and afraid for our son! I am panicky for our future and the situation that awaits us! I don't expect it to be a bed of roses. I'm very afraid that it will cost us a lot of blood to reach our goals and then, the _Gods_ have mercy on us then! Although I hope you and Aegon are wrong, we will have to fight the fucking _Death_!" she said crying, with a shrill voice, releasing everything she had inside, while she clasped her hands between them to bring them to her head. _‘_ _Rhaegar is not the only one who is not knowing how to adapt to being alive again._ _And he's complaining about nonsense while I'm distraught and overwhelmed_ ’

"It was stupid to sang Danny Flint." Rhaegar tried to apologize tenderly, as he approached her until they were face to face the two of them. In this way Rhaegar forced her to have to look up to look into his eyes, that were about to cry “forgive me for just dumping all my frustrations on you”

 _'It seems that I am not the only one who was about to explode'_ she consoled herself a little internally when she appreciated her husband's state of mind.

"It wasn’t the best choice for a song in the _Wall_ after returning among livings, but that was not the reason that I ran out of the common hall, or the reason of everything I just told you. Sometimes I think I just couldn't handle everything that happened since the tourney at Harrenhal's until today" she said between sobs, feeling guilty that her husband now thought that she didn't love him anymore.

Staring at him, as she intertwined her fingers over and over again, she asked him the question that ever since she saw him train with Bran was so afraid to do.

“Do you think that one day I will be able to have another son or a daughter? Do you think I would survive another birth or would die again?" she was finally honest with her husband, revealing her innermost dread _'Being the cause of the end of the Targaryen dynasty by being unable to do the only thing a woman should do: give to birth.'_

“Lya, even if you don't give me any more children, you are everything I needed, need or will need. I love you, I loved you and I will always love you. Even if only Aegon turns out to be the fruit of our love, that will not make you more or less in my eyes.” Rhaegar said in low tone, but with all the warmth he was able to gather, at the same time that gently grabbed her hands between his and raised them to the level of his mouth, with which Rhaegar began to give her sweet kisses.

“I never loved you as a broodmare. I have always loved you, I love you and I will love you, for your will of steel, your tenderness, your kind heart, your blunt honesty, your adventurous spirit and for your wild and passionate side. You are the Ice of my Fire, although really being as we are, I should say it's the other way around.” Rhaegar finished in a tone of adoration, with a smile that was more dangerous than the three dragons put together. His eyes seemed to emit sparks when they fixed on hers.

"Well, enough worrying and training. At this time you have to rest. We never know if tomorrow our son will come and we will continue with our journey.” her husband finished before Lyanna could said anything to everything he had said.

He released her hands and headed for the armory and the forge to shed the armor he had donned. Lyanna discreetly accompanied him to help him, to do the tasks that the now absent Bran should do.

 _'Although I'm sure that without my help he could also take off his armor, it's something I want to do'_ convinced herself of the reasons for following Rhaegar. Lyanna slowly began to remove the pieces of her husband's armor.

First the greaves, then are the vambraces, shoulder pads and gorget. Finally, she debrided the black cape that was tied to Rhaegar’s famous black polished steel breastplate, with the rampant three-headed dragon carved in glittering rubies. Beneath the armor, he had only tight black woolen breeches and a long black camisole like the one Aegon had on the night they came back to life. _'It is seen that Rhaegar liked it and had spoken with Sansa to have the same'_ Lyanna thought with a certain humor, seeing that even after coming back to life, her husband, although he will never admit it, continued to be quite flirtatious and careful with his personal image.

Rhaegar stared into her eyes as in a trance, as if he were seeing her for the first time in his life. Without really understanding why, she felt ashamed but at the same time she felt the heat and color rise to her head and face.

Before either of them could realize it, they were both embracing and passionately kissing. With fervor as if it were the first and last kiss of their lives.

At first, it's a skin-tight kiss. Rhaegar’s mouth barely open against hers and she helplessly kisses him back, eyes squeezed and shoulders drawn up in tension. It's all and nothing, an unbearable sensation. Her knees went weak and she stumbles a little as he snakes an arm around her waist to hold her up.

Momentum carries them. He pulls her closer, her palms fly to press onto his chest and then all happen over before she knows it. Their lips part and the touch the tips of their tongues, flesh on flesh, muscle on muscle. She’s really feeling alive for the first time since her come back from the crypts.

But it's not nearly enough to quench her thirst. Her deepest and lustful desire comes gasping to the front and she opens her mouth to let Rhaegar's tongue inside fully. The taste of is incredibly sweet and she makes this sighing, the yielding sound that breaks the barrier of caution and marks the start of something that makes Lyanna feel alive again.

It's all familiar, then not and then it’s like almost sixteen years ago. It's still them, Lyanna and Rhaegar. She can swear she knows him by heart, because he's finally kissing her with the determined enthusiasm he puted in everything else he did before his death, and that is how she recognizes him again. With his fire always hidden, shining to the surface.

Rhaegar swirls his tongue around in her mouth, fingers raking the back of her scalp, she clutches him with all her strength, thrusting back with her tongue, almost savagely, teeth clashing and saliva mixing. And falling sighs and heavy breathe, until he moans into her mouth as he did it in the past. A sound so pretty, the most erotic cry of surrender she's ever heard. It's unbelievable that it is coming from him, raw, delicious, so low it echoes in her bones and it hurts exquisitely ‘ _Don't, don't, don't ever stop’_ she thinks like a prayer, while easing her hands under Rhaegar's camisole, slipping it off from his shoulders.

Rhaegar rushes onward as if he can read her mind and who's to say he's not doing just that; without thinking twice, her husband lifted in weight from her a little more forcefully than necessary and leaned her against the armory bench, causing the tools deposited in it to crash, her eyes going wide and then fluttering shut again.

He presses his body onto hers with a sound of flesh on fabric and, even through her clothes, she discovers the incredible heat of his skin. Then the kissing resumes and lengthens again, it goes back to a gnawing exploration of mouths, their heads lolling and turning against one another and their tongues wrestling, flailing away at each other. There is this blurred sea of faces dancing at the edge of her consciousness, a jury that would forever condemn theirs love, but everything is being washed away by the most obliterating surge of pleasure and she knows she'll already be wet by the time he even gets so far as to look at her cunt.

Her husband chooses that moment to extricate himself from the kiss, desperate to breathe, but he's restless; he lowers his head to bite at her neck, to kiss her against the pulse drumming under her jaw – open-mouthed, breathing her in, forcing her head up.

"Ah…" Lyanna's pant is loud and thick in the stillness of the armory. Rhaegar's erection is jutting out against her hipbone and she bucks vigorously against him, so ready, already wanting more and soon she can't hear anything; there's only a thin, tiny ringing in her ears. Yet she's sure he's whispering something against her throat, his teeth and wet breath grazing her skin, his hair tickling her jaw.

She can't make out the words; she can't hear him, or can't understand him, and she tells herself she'll have to ask him, but later, because now his hands are squeezing her ass, and then they're on her hips, on her sides and she feels him awkwardly begin to untie the strings of her skirt and tunic without stopping to kiss her on the neck, but without completely removing it.

She, totally uninhibited, took advantage of Rhaegar's problems with her skirt and tunic to bring Rhaegar's black leather breeches down to his knees. Seeing her intentions and her own state, her husband rid of her cloak and now he was yanking the collar of her tunic up around her shoulders and she's guiding him to lift it off over her head and when he finally throws it aside she looks to him, with her bare breast, her longs wool breeches and the boots are all her clothes now.

He returns her gaze from her and for seconds on end, everything stops.

"Rhaegar…" Lyanna said in a whisper. This time, his name sounds like rushed and desperate, half-broken in the middle and their movements become sharp, frantic: she pulls his hair and forces his face down against her chest; he finds a nipple, tiny and hard and he hungrily traps it between his teeth.

She gasps. Her entire spine goes rigid. The stab of pleasure strikes straight through her back, thrilling and swelling. His tongue passes swiftly all over her breasts and she makes a fist of his hair. He moans wordlessly and she grabs his muscular back, her nails sink into his bare skin, her other hand quickly grabs his cock and gives it a squeeze, burning thickness between her fingers.

Rhaegar's back arches into a shudder. Lyanna's entire body is thrumming with new energy, in her blood something is surging. Her grip becomes stronger and his head falls back, his hips jerk forward and she increases the rhythm, and his breath comes faster, and when he's about to shatter beneath her hands she releases her vice grip.

"Lyanna…" Rhaegar said to her with need and lust in his trembling voice.

He loses it and grinds on her at once, with a low growl, pushing her back flat to the bench and suddenly Rhaegar picked up a dagger that had been around the armory bench, and then cut the side of the groin of her gray wool breeches ' _Damn, I'm going to have to sew myself as I can this ...'_

She feels every inch of him on her skin, scorching hot, and she feels on fire hurting with lust and love and want, like her heart might explode out of her body when she lifts one leg, and he slips his hands under her butt and she can finally wrap her legs around his waist, tight, so tight. And with a guttural cry he lunges into her so easy, so damn perfect, once, twice, and again, slow, and hard, and then faster, faster and she moans, and cries, and kisses him hard.

Twisting her fingers in the muscles of his back, closing her eyes, calling his name, wishing, wishing, wishing this could never end, wishing the problems and the past could be absorbed with the same ease they merged into one being.

“Now, Rhaegar, now” She screams while she comes, hard, writhing and shaking apart against him and he comes within her with a keening sound that makes her feel high.

 _‘Let's do it again'_ she wants to say, and _'yes, please'_ and _'Rhaegar, Rhaegar, Rhaegar'_

Here, now, they feel solid and fluid all at once: a translucent fabric, gliding like a drop of mercury that can be seen and maybe touched. But there's only two forces of nature that can truly grasp it and bend it at will, and perhaps this is it, that is how they've ended up here, in this armory today, tangled in each other in this moment in time.

It would be the hour of the bat when they left the armory to return to the King's Tower. Everything was dark except for the candles that dimly illuminated the ancient and decrepit castle. Not a soul was to be seen except for the black brothers on duty at the top of the wall or at the beacons.

Suddenly Lyanna felt a chill run down her spine _'It will be from going from the heat we had in the armory to the cold that radiates from the wall'_ she thought, diminishing the bad feeling she had suddenly had.

"Auuuuuuu" sounded in the night silence the horn of the Watch at the top of the Wall. The tension that suddenly washed over Rhaegar and her to see if it was accompanied by more signals caused time to freeze. After a minute that seemed like an hour and there were no more signals from the horn, it was clear that some friend was coming from the other side of the _Wall_. This caused immediate relaxation for both of them, but when Lyanna instinctively looked up at the top of the wall, what she saw terrified her.

At five hundred meters high, Balerion's black shadow could be seen flying parallel to the Wall on route to the east, without Aegon on top and with a flock of crows flying over the frozen Wall.

"Aegon ..." was all she managed to say, before Lya’s saw the ground suddenly approach her face.

* * *

[1] Go to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dragons are only going to carry Targaryens or people very connected to their dragonriders. This is why this chapter has been longer than what I initially expected (along with the smut included only in the English version, in the version I was not inspired to do so). I wanted to make it clear that riding a dragon is not an everyday thing. All the events of the chapter, with the exception of the arrival at the wall (Day +4 after Visenya ritual) take place more than fifteen days after the ritual.
> 
> Bran I "The birth of Bloodbran and the fulfillment of a dream" next!  
> PS: If anyone finds in all of ASOIAF / Fire & Blood / AWOIAF proof that dragons can cross the wall, let them come and tell me. I repeat something that I have said from the beginning. I'm going to stick to the canon as long as I can. How the show for me, at least from season 1, is not Canon ... (And even the first season I find it difficult to admit it as such ... Lol) well ... I will never have inspiration from it


	11. Bran I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unsatisfactory explanations, Red Grass Field, Bloodbran, and a prophetic dream come true

**T wenty fourth of the Fifth moon of 297 AC. Beyond the Wall, next to Milkwater river.  
**

* * *

Four and a half days after leaving _Castle Black,_ Bran, along with his cousin Aegon, his uncle Benjen, and a seasoned _Night's Watch_ ranger named Qhorin _The_ _half-hand,_ arrived before the gigantic clearing with the enormous _Weirwood Tree_ in its core, which tormented his cousin Aegon so much.

After _Balerion_ settled heavily on the snowy surface, the four occupants of the dragon descended to the ground. “By all the gods, don't think for a moment that I'll go back to the wall on that infernal beast. I'm about to put snow inside my clothes to cool myself down.” said without any filter The _half hand_ , for some amusement from Aegon, who was now caressing the enormous muzzle of his dragon with all the sweetness in the world, causing it to emit a purr similar to that of a kitten.

' _A kitten with teeth bigger than me'_ thought Bran internally, totally fascinated with _Balerion. 'For now the squire life is quite comfortable and it is allowing me to fly in the Black Dread. I can't quite see the cons that my father warned me about before accepting Aegon's request.'_

 _“Ēdrugon kesīr. Iksi jāre naejot bona dīnagon. Ūndegon syt qrinuntyssy, yn ȳdra daor sōvegon_[ ** _[1]_**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47717173?view_adult=true#_ftn1) _”_ his cousin transmitted to the _Black Terror_ in sing-song voice _,_ after which Aegon gave Bran a look that indicated that he had to unload the saddlebags that hung from the enormous dragon.

"When you're done, go to the kind of entrance under the _Weirwood Tree."_ his cousin said authoritatively.

Next, Aegon approached him and putting himself at Bran’s height, placed his right hand on Bran’s shoulder and spoke to him in a tone that was only audible to both of them, because uncle Benjen and _the half-hand_ had begun to ascend the small ridge that separated them from the possible entry. “Prepare my full armor, and don your breastplate, backplate and leather engravings. I don't know what we can find there."

Taking his left hand to his right boot, Aegon took out a dagger that then put with the hilt facing Bran. "Here, I know it's not _Needle_ nor my mother's Valyrian steel dagger _,_ but it's good castle steel. If you continue like this, in a couple of months you will have gained muscle and I will give you your own long sword. What do you think ehm? " His cousin said with an affectionate tone and a tender look, to then play with Bran’s hair a bit.

Looking at the dagger, Bran took it and then turned his eyes to his cousin, who was still in a straight line to his gaze. “Aegon, why did you want me to come and not your father? If there is a fight or a dangerous situation, I will be more a burden than help.” he expressed with a trembling voice the question that Bran had been asking himself over and over again since he learned that Aegon had decided that his squire had to be with him at this time.

Something in his words had an effect on his cousin, because Aegon’s eyes began to sparkle as they did sometimes since he lived whatever Aegon has lived through the ritual of his sister-wife, Visenya _'The truth, no one, not even himself, is clear what Aegon is my cousin. If Aegon the Conqueror, or Aegon the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna’_ Bran thought when he saw in his cousin attitudes that he had never seen before in his life, as in this case, that bright silvery and purple sparkle in his eyes that amazed and imposed in equal measure. This, combined with his new all-silver hair color that grew exponentially every day, made Bran sometimes feel that his cousin really was _the Conqueror_.

Smiling warmly, how Bran had rarely seen him since the night of the ritual, Aegon addressed him in a warm, sweet voice. “Honestly Bran, I think my squire has to be by my side. I would be a bad knight if I do not trust you’ve the capabilities to be ready to face whatever we could face together... Besides, you are like a brother to me, it doesn't matter if we are cousins by blood...and something inside me told me that you had to come with me to this place…I can't explain this second reason better, but I hope you understand it and that you know that I would never deliberately put you in a dangerous situation.” after which, Aegon hugged him so tightly that he almost broke him.

When Aegon separated from the embrace and stood up again in full, his cousin looked at Bran again and smiling said “Not only you are going to be a knight one day, but you can tell your children that you witnessed something magical, why, don't tell me that such a place shouldn't have some magic to be so beautiful? " finished Aegon while gesturing as he spread his arms and looked around the two of them.

Looking closely, Bran could see crows flying between the crowns of the trees bent by the weight of the snow, forming a kind of circle around a hill completely covered with snow and without any vegetation, except for the giant _Weirwood Tree_ which seemed to be in a kind of cleft in the top of the hill. The red leaves of the cup glittered and gleamed in the last rays of the day's sun.

When his uncle Benjen and the ranger of the Watch reached about twenty yards from the kind of cleft, a flock of night-black ravens and a little girl with a torch in her hand came out. Seeing this, his cousin Aegon left Bran with _Balerion_ performing his squire duties and quickened his pace towards where uncle stood with the _half-hand._

After Bran unloaded all the saddlebags and bags, he did as his cousin told him and put on the leather breastplate and back, as well as the greaves. This, added to the sacks with the provisions and Aegon's armor, which despite being Valyrian steel, continued to weigh, caused that when leaving the area where _Balerion_ had evaporated the snow, Bran sank almost to the waist from the weight and amount of snow there was around and under him.

The ascent that seemed easy from below, left him almost breathless by the time he reached the height of the three men, who were with astonished faces, as if not believing what they saw before them.

Since Bran had enough to breathe, he had not yet realized the reason that led the three men to be in such a state. As he stared, Bran saw how the three of them were staring at the figure he previously had identified as a little girl, with wild, uncombed hair.

When he saw her up close, his surprise was such that Aegon's armor fell to the ground with a crash ' _Great, now I'm going to have to polish it again.'_ He sourly thought for a moment, before refocusing on the reason for his surprise. Bran narrowed his eyes, to see her better. After that, he opened and closed his eyes a couple of times, to see if what was seeing in front of him was real.

She was a girl, smaller than Arya. Her skin was mottled, under a blanket of leaves that served as a dress. Her eyes were strange: big and liquid, gold and green, like a cat's. Nobody has eyes like that. Her hair was a tangle of brown, red, and gold, autumn colors, with vines and twigs and wilted flowers woven through it.

Because no one seemed to speak and therefore break the kind of spell that had been created, Bran decided to exercise of what he was and without hesitation, asked with just a small voice to the little and between green and brownish being.

"Are you one of the _Children of the Forest?"_ Bran’s voice seemed to pull the mythical being out of the block she was suffering, and with a high and sweet voice, like a strange music like none Bran had ever heard, and loaded with a sadness which Bran thought could break his heart, the mythical being answered Bran’s question.

"The first men called us _children,_ " said the little woman. "The giants called us _woh dak nag gran_ , the squirrel people, because we were small and fast, and we like trees. But we are not squirrels, and we are not children either. Our name in the _True Language_ means those who sing the song of the earth. Before your age, that of the spoken language, we had sung our songs for ten thousand years. I am one of the last _singers of the earth_."

Like Bran, the rest of them couldn't believe what they had before them. They had fallen into one of the old tales of _old Nan_. Without leaving any possible question to any of those present at such revelation, the _Child of the forest_ ' _Or should I say Singer of the Earth'_ continued speaking.

“My name is Leaf and my mission was and is, to be here to receive you. _He_ is waiting for you, Aegon Targaryen and Brandon Stark” the magical being concluded, giving Bran’s a look that he felt was piercing to his soul.

Then she motioned for the two of them to accompany her, and ducked through the cleft under the base of the great white tree. Aegon didn't hesitate and began to go after her.

“The two of us will be watching here, if something happens we will get in to warn you. If you would like to ask for some firewood to...” said uncle Benjen, while gesturing with his chin towards the cleft "we can set up a makeshift camp here in the entrance. Fortunately we have plenty of supplies for the four of us for almost a fortnight." Uncle Benjen finished with a carefree tone, and then fixed his gaze on him and his cousin Aegon.

His gray eyes, lighter than Bran’s father's, with a hint of bluish tint, seemed to reflect fear at what might happen to them. Taking a step forward, uncle approached Aegon and placed his right hand on Aegon’s left shoulder, while in a warm but tremulous voice said

“Jo… Aegon, be careful in there. I know that after all the shit you've been through, you must be more than familiar with magic, but we are talking about the fucking _Children of the Forest_ ... if the legends are true, which at this point would not surprise me, _they helped to create this world and life_ … those are big words….” Uncle’s eyes fully fixed on Aegon's, his hand squeezing the shoulder where it rested.

Changing his tone, to a more relaxed one, while letting go of Aegon, uncle looked at them both, and said "Also if something happened to you, both Lya and Ned would chase me through the _seven hells_ to punish me for not protecting you." to which the three of them outlined smiles, imagining his father, or Bran's aunt angry with their uncle _'After what I saw the night of Aegon's return, it is clear to me that the last thing I want to be, is to be the center of my father's or my aunt Lyanna anger.’_

Leaf, as the _Child of the forest_ had said her name was, waved a torch from the black crevice of the cave. "Our path is ahead. You both must come with me now to complete your destiny, and understand the reason for your fate."

Bran shuddered again at the way Leaf said those words and addressed the two of them, urging them to enter the black cave. Abruptly, the incompressible images he had been having since the night of Aegon's name day flashed through his mind again.

One of the occurrences since that night was that every night when he slept, he dreamed that he was inside his wolf. Without quite knowing why, after the whole truth about the _Rebellion_ was known, Bran was compelled to try to comfort his newfound aunt Lyanna. As he did so, Bran felt a chill run through his entire body, as he remembered all the moments he had lived with Aegon, whom Bran immediately recognized as if he had known all his life for who he was. ' _I once again have the uneasy feeling I had during the night of the ritual ... a feeling of having already been here, of having lived this ... that my life was destined for this moment'_ Bran thought as he swallowed hard, in an act that tried to reaffirm his worth. He then cast a questioning glance at his cousin, to see what they were doing next. After looking at each other, and nodding, they followed in the steps of the little creature.

The path was narrow and winding, and so low, that in some places Aegon had to duck, and yet the top of his head was soon scraping and crashing against the ceiling. Loose earth crumbled with each touch, trickling down the band of ruby-encrusted Valyrian steel for a crown and his cousin's fledgling silver hair, making them both now appear ash-colored. _'Something is here, that even the earth is capable of dulling the shine of Valyrian steel and hair'_ thought that caused a chill to run down Bran’s spine.

The _girl_ stepped forward, torch in hand, the cloak of leaves she wore for clothing, whispering behind her, but the passage turned so much that Bran and his cousin soon lost sight of her. Soon the only light they had to guide them was the one reflected off the walls of the passage. After continuing down a bit, the cave split, but the left branch was dark, so they continued towards the moving light to the right.

The way the shadows moved made it look like the walls were moving too. Bran saw what appeared to be large white snakes slithering in and out of the earth around him, and his heart began to race in fear. Bran began to wonder if they had crawled into a nest of soft, pale, squishy milk snakes or giant worms.

Aegon saw them too, standing up immediately "By all hells, what the in the gods name is that?"Exclaimed his cousin, who seemed reluctant to continue without having an explanation of what was in their environment.

But when the _girl_ retraced her steps, the light of the torch stabilized, and Bran realized that the snakes were only white roots. "They are wooden roots," the mythical being said dryly, to resume her accelerated step forward.

"Okay, it seems that we have no excuses to escape from our destiny and fate" Aegon said with a certain tired tone at the same time resigned, almost more for himself than for Bran.

Aegon reached over his right shoulder, drew _Blackfyre_ and lunged forward, hurrying after the _girl_ and the torch she carried, deeper in the earth. At Aegon's resolve, Bran took a deep breath and continued in his cousin's footsteps, making to what seemed like the bowels of the earth. They passed another branch, and then another and later into a cavern of echoes as large as the great hall in _Winterfell_ , with stone teeth hanging from its ceiling and more peeking out from the floor. The _girl_ with the leafy cloak for garments, wove a path through them. Every now and then she would stop and wave the torch at them impatiently. This way, she seemed to say, faster.

There were more side passages after that, more cameras, and Bran heard water dripping somewhere to his right. He looked away and saw eyes, staring at them, narrowed eyes that glowed brightly, reflecting the light from the torches. ' _More children'_ he told himself.

"It seems that the girl is not the only one left." Bran said in a low and trembling tone to his cousin, who turned to him, and then to where he was looking. After that, Aegon looked at him and nodded with a certain astonished face.

They continued to advance, seeing that it was more and more apparent that the roots were everywhere, wriggling through the earth and stone, closing some passages and supporting the roofs of others. _'All color is gone'_ Bran realized suddenly.

The world was a black floor and a white wooden ceiling. The _Weirwood Tree_ in Winterfell had roots as thick as the legs of a giant, but these were even thicker. And Bran had never seen so many of them in one place ' _There must be a grove of Weirwoods Trees above us, but where? We have flown over the area, and the only Weirwood Tree that could be seen was the one on top the hill.’_ mused Bran

The light dimmed again. Small as she was, the girl moved quickly how she wanted. His cousin Aegon, a lot bigger and taller than she, and totally unaware of where they were entering, continued to move more slowly behind her. After a few meters, something began to creak under Bran’s cousin's feet.

Aegon’s halt was so sudden that Bran nearly smashed into his back. "Bones." said Bran’s cousin in a cold serious tone, his body tense and on guard. "We are stepping on bones."

Looking into the gloom of the cavernous room, Bran could see that the floor was littered with the bones of birds and beasts. But there were other bones as well, large that must have come from giants and small that might have been from humans.

On either side of them, in niches carved in stone, skulls gazed at them. Sharpening his eyes even more, he saw a bear skull and a wolf skull, half a dozen human skulls, and close to as many giants. All the others were small, strangely shaped. ' _Children of the forest'_ quickly realized. There were crows perched above them, watching them vigilantly with gleaming black eyes.

The last part of their dark journey was the steepest. They both slipped, fell on their backs, and ended up making the final descent on their asses, colliding and sliding downward in a clatter of broken bones, loose dirt, and pebbles.

The girl was waiting for them with an amused expression on her unearthly face, standing at one end of a natural bridge over an unfathomable abyss. Down in the dark, Bran heard the sound of running water. _'Surely it is an underground river_.'

"Do we have to cross?" Bran asked incredulously, attitude that Aegon seemed to share with him. The prospect of crossing scared him. If they slipped on that narrow bridge, they would fall and fall.

"No, boy." said the girl. "Look behind you." she raised her torch higher, and the light seemed to shift and change.

In a moment the flames burned orange and yellow, filling the cavern with a bright reddish color; Then all the colors faded, leaving only black and white. His cousin Aegon was totally pale, muttering something in _High Valyrian_ , which Bran thought understood as _not_ _again._

When Aegon turned on himself, he gasped in surprise. As Bran turned, too, he understood why Aegon was startled.

Before them, a man, or what was once a man. Pale, with ebony trim, he sat dreaming. The being was entangled in a nest of roots, a woven wooden throne that hugged its withered body.

Its body was so skeletal and his black clothes so rotten that at first Bran took him for another corpse, a dead man supported so long that roots had grown over him, under him, and through him. The man's cadaverous skin was white as the full moon, except for a bloody stain in form of a crow that ran up his neck to his cheek. His white hair was fine and thin as a hair root and had passed long enough for it to skim the dirt floor. Roots wrapped around his legs like wooden snakes. One of them buried in his pants, between the dried flesh of his thigh, to emerge again from his shoulder. A stream of dark red leaves sprouted from his skull, as did gray mushrooms on his forehead. A little skin remained, stretched over his face, taut and hard like white leather, but even that was worn, and here and there the yellow bone underneath was poking at the surface.

"Are you the raven of the ritual?" Bran listened without understanding at all what his cousin, who was as tight as a bowstring before releasing the bolt, suddenly asked.

Aegon’s eyes were hard and sparkling, totally zoomed in the figure that rested between the branches and roots of the white tree. The knuckles of Bran’s cousin right hand totally white from the force on his grasp on _Blackfyre_ , which had put in a position that pointed directly towards the _being_ , because something else could it not be, what was before them.

But still, Bran did not understand why Aegon had referred to this being as a raven _'A raven is not a man, and besides, this is not even a complete man. For missing it, even one of the eyes is missing. He only has one, and it's red.'_ Bran thought as he watched the scene unfold before him.

Yet despite the _being's_ gaze fixed on Aegon, at the same time, Bran could feel the eye staring at him, glowing like a pool of blood in the torchlight. Where his other eye should have been, a thin white root grew from the socket of his empty eye, down his cheek, and his neck.

"A raven?" The pale voice of the being was dry and vibrant, it seemed that it came from the bowels of the earth, distilling _magic_ in each of his intonations. His lips moved slowly, as if they had forgotten how to form the words. "Once, yes. Black of clothes and black of blood."

The clothes the being was wearing were rotten and faded, stained with moss and eaten with worms, but Bran could tell they had once been black. “I have been many things, Aegon. Now I am how you see me, to await your arrival I had to merge with this tree and now you will understand why I could not go to you...except during your sister's ritual. I've seen you for a long time, I've seen you with a thousand eyes and one. I saw your two births and the death of your lord father long before he fell on the Trident. I saw your first step, I heard your first word, I was part of your first dream and I was watching when you stabbed yourself in front of your mother's tomb. And now, at last, you have come to me, Aegon Targaryen." The red eye of the pale being seemed to penetrate Aegon, who was practically shaking himself from the tremors he had. His already white skin had turned marbled and beaded with sweat. It seemed like Aegon couldn't move.

Suddenly, the man, the being, or the raven, as his cousin had named him, turned his head and fixed it on Bran, piercing him with his eye, as if he were able to see beyond his own soul. Not knowing why, Bran began to shake uncontrollably, feeling as if his muscles had turned to jelly. Sweat was pouring into him, but cold sweat was soaking him through. The hairs of his body like spine.

“And besides, you have brought someone to replace me in Brandon Stark, although for this, I think the time is late and he will not be able to learn everything he will need.” The voice boomed as if it were an echo that spread throughout the cave.

"I'm here," Aegon said in a small voice that reminded Bran a lot of his pre-ritual cousin when Aegon confronted his mother, "only I'm not the Aegon it should be. Will you ... will you fix it? … Will you bring the real Aegon, I mean?" said shakily and almost whispering Bran’s cousin.

"No." said the pale lord flatly. "That's impossible, because that Aegon is already here."

Bran’s cousin's eyes filled with tears, but his attitude seemed to be recomposing, regaining the rectitude and determination that he had shown since he went through what he went through in the ritual.

" _The Dragon and the Dragon reborn,_ you are and have always been one and the same, born with a destiny and a responsibility; Eradicate the _Death forever._ " the pale lips promised.

“You and the _Conqueror_ are two, but at the same time one. Without you, Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, there would have been no _Dragon_ _._ Without _Dragon,_ son of Aerion Targaryen and Valaena Velaryon, there would be no **_Dragon Reborn, Shadow King_**. You were always predestined to be the same being, you have always been the same person, you are the song of _Ice_ and _Fire_ made flesh. Without the one, the other would not have existed and without the other, the one would not have been.” the being explained as if it were something simple, leaving Bran understanding even less than before, although it seemed that Aegon was gradually understanding certain things.

Before he or his cousin could say anything, the man in the tree continued speaking in his magical, afterlife voice. “ _The first Dragon_ was already here to fight the first _long night_ , but he still could not control the _song of_ _fire_ and he had to make great sacrifices to stop them temporarily, and all memory of him was lost, as he returned to the east to heal from his soul wounds and pass what knowledge he learned from _Westeros. The second Dragon_ was the _song of fire_ made flesh, which prevented the _Death from_ awakening. He broke the balance when departed from his destiny, forging the _Seven Kingdoms_ with _fire_ and _blood_ instead of the _Freehold of Valyria_ ... _The third Dragon is the song of Ice and Fire made flesh_ , you Aegon Targaryen are the one who will bring the balance to the powers of the world, creating a new one in the process ... or you will be responsible for the cease of all life on _Planetos."_ sentenced the voice from beyond the grave, which seemed to reverberate from each branches out of the cave to expand where he and his cousin Aegon stood.

Aegon had wiped his tears with the back of his left hand and sheathed _Blackfyre_ in his back, now looking calmer and resigned to his fate. ‘ _I_ _f I think I understand something of this madness, it is that my cousin, or rather, my cousin's soul, has had at least three lives, but at the same time being the same and unique in each of these lives._ _'_ thought Bran, trying to understand what had just said the strange being.

Despite this, Bran still had a feeling of unease and fear that he did not quite understand _'Isn't it just Aegon who is involved in the ritual? Why did it say that I will be its substitute? Who is this being?'_ Unable to hold on any longer, Bran addressed himself with a shrill and trembling voice, but with a certain decision, to the magical being.

"Who are you? What do you want from us?" Bran said, anticipating his cousin and the being from speaking.

The being looked at Bran, and made what seemed to be a hint of a smile, “The last _greenseer_ , the _singers_ called me… I used to have many names when I was still fast and young, but even I once had a mother, and the name she gave me on the chest was Brynden."

"I have an Uncle Brynden." Bran said. "He's my mother's uncle, really. Brynden Blackfish, his name is."

"Your uncle may have been named after me. Some, especially in the _Riverlands_ where I was born, are still named in my honor. Not as many as before. Men forget. Only trees remember." The voice was so soft that Bran had to strain to hear.

"Brynden Rivers?...As in Bloodraven?" Aegon exclaimed at Bran’s side, expressing all the disbelief in the world.

“Indeed nephew. Or should I say, grandfather from fourteen generations ago? My father was named in your honor and my brother carried your sword. Does it surprise you that someone in our family is related to magic? ... also like you, I have the blood of the first men and that of the old Valyria, although from this last one unlike you, I inherited little from magic…instead my sister Shiera… She was the one who alerted me of the ritual and the prophecy of Visenya and _Rhaenys's dream_. From then on, and despite the wars between brothers, she and I dedicated ourselves to preparing for the moment when you would return, because we knew that the _Others_ and _Death_ would return with your birth. All my actions in the service of House Targaryen were with the intention of strengthening our position in the face of the real enemy and the _Great War_ against _Death_ , Alas... I did not always achieve what I wanted, nor was I able to foresee the magnitude of my mistakes."

“Are you saying that you have been preparing for my arrival for almost a hundred and thirty years? What mistakes? You told me I'd find answers here, and all I find is more riddles and inscrutability. I can understand about the _Conqueror_ and me; Deep down inside me, since I was transported to his body I always knew it, just like him. But, the first _Dragon?_ That I have always been destined for this? What about _Senya's_ ritual and prophecy? _What about Bran being your substitute? ..._ I need explanations _Bloodraven_ , and I need them right now.” Aegon’s voice seemed not to admit discussions or more answers locked in riddles.

Bran’s cousin stance was now utterly determined, fully erect, his eyes fixed on Lord Brynden Rivers, one of the _Great Bastards_ of the _Unworthy_. _'When everyone thought them almost extinct, it turns out that there are at least five Targaryen left alive in this world.'_ Bran reflected, trying to see some sense on everything he was experiencing since arriving at the clearing with the _Weirwood_ , at the same time he remembered the words of his cousin when they got off _Balerion 'I think that with this, I am having magical experiences for the rest of my life'._

Bran turned his eyes towards _Bloodraven_ , who seemed to hesitate what to say, until he seemed to decide what to say. “All your sister-wife did was to open a portal in time, using the soul of the Aegon of her future, our present, you, and the soul of the Aegon of her present, our past, _The Conqueror._ Your death really gave rise to the one, and the resurrection of the other, of you, gave death to the one ... It wasn't Rhaenys's death that changed Aegon, it was that a part of him stopped being with him after the ritual, not only his Valyrian steel armor forever lost ... until your resurrection eleven days ago." Bloodraven's voice that reverberated throughout the cave, seemed to explain to his cousin as if he were a small child.

Although it was difficult to understand, Bran was beginning to make sense of it, and certainly all his suspicions that Visenya Targaryen was a witch from _Old Valyria_ were now confirmed.

“You are here not only because of the _Dragonstone_ ritual, no… Every one of the violent deaths of the last three hundred years is the reason you now are here, Aegon. Each of the internal struggles of house Targaryen are part of the process by which your father, your mother, the dragons and yourself are here among the living. The blood that Westeros has been watering and spilling over its lands, has been feeding the spell of the ritual, in order to fulfill your sister's prophecy. My role in it was simply to act as a guide and trigger for you to perform your part of the ritual, shedding the final blood necessary for it to take effect. Spilling the blood of _Old Valyria_ an that of the _Kings of Winter_ on the fire in which the _Dragon_ began, ended and was reborn, that by chance, also consumed your parents.” Bloodraven finished, in a cold voice devoid of any warmth, but at the same time Lord Brynden seemed as he was excusing himself for what happened.

"Are you telling me that I killed myself because of you?" Aegon practically yelled, who seemed to start to rage.

The affirmation with the head of Bloodraven seemed to fan the flames inside Aegon, as he continued to pressure his ancestor ' _O descendant, the truth is that it is impossible to know the family relationship of my cousin with the rest of the Targaryen family. According to Bloodraven's words, my cousin is his own ancestor...I don't want to imagine the internal conflict that must be happening inside Aegon’s head.'_ without being able to continue with Bran’s thoughts, Aegon again inquired about how little Lord Brynden had implied.

"If you've been preparing for my arrival all this time, how did you let the _Summerhall happen_? Why didn't you do anything to stop my grandfather? Why didn't you tell my father, or Maester Aemon? Do you think that the situation in _Westeros_ is _ideal_ for me to face a legendary enemy, whom I imagine, you will have no idea how to defeat?" the caustic tone of his cousin Aegon, and the aggressiveness that emanated from him, made clear the repulsion that Aegon was feeling for Bloodraven, accompanied with a certain reproach.

Bloodraven, for his part, seemed not to be taken for granted, as he did not change his expression, merely replying with his cold and reverberating voice, while fixing his red eye on Bran’s cousin. “As I told you, I made mistakes, the first of which was to underestimate the order of the _Arch_ _Maesters_ and to what lengths the _conclave_ of the _Citadel_ would be able to go in order to see our end. Summerhall is the product of betrayal and not a sudden madness of Egg ... and your grandfather was the biggest of my mistakes ... My induced dreams ... let's say that instead of showing him the threat, what they did was drive him crazy, since he ended up seeing everything in the world threatens that he had to burn...At least that I do know and I can tell you; the fire destroys their demonic puppets, the _wights_ and weakens the _Others_. Your father, as you know well, has the gift of dragon dreams, just like Rhaenys, so neither Shiera nor I need to intervene with him... And Aemon, knew exactly about your arrival, but he did not want to intervene due to his concept of duty, very similar of that to your uncle Eddard..."

"But if you can see in time, why haven't you intervened in it?" Bran heard himself ask himself.

Aegon turned and looked at him with some annoyance, but Bloodraven smiled and produced a sound that must have been a laugh, but was more like the cawing of all the crows present in the cave. Turning towards him, and with a voice warmer than the one he had been using up to that moment, answered his question.

“Great question Brandon Stark, it shows that you have it in your blood. But I warn you before you take my place, the past is written, the ink is dry ... Everything is written from the beginning to the end, and each one has his destiny and fate. That is what I have learned throughout all these years. The past can only be contemplated and not for too long, because you run the risk of being trapped in time. Remember this, you cannot try to alter the past or the future, only the present. Aegon is the only exception and that is due to his blood and the arcane arts of old Valyria... And more I cannot explain."

"Because you don’t know or because you don't want to?” Aegon asked in a firm tone full of disgust. His face was flushed and his attitude denoted that although he now knew more about the ritual and why it was, Aegon still seemed to not understand many things, which undoubtedly seemed to infuriate Bran’s cousin. Aegon’s eyes were twinkles of light in the gloom of the cavernous room, as he waited for Bloodraven's answer.

No doubt his cousin expected clearer answers. _'Well, at least he knows why and how he, the dragons and his parents are here. And we know that everything is related to Visenya and the magic of Old Valyria, surely in Essos we will find more information.’_

Bran was trying to rationally think of a way to ease his cousin's conflict in the future, before Bloodraven spoke in a different voice, but even more magical and ominous than before. “Because it isn't your time yet, nor will be I the one to tell you, _Dragon Reborn._ Now your cousin Brandon must take my place, for my time is running out. You will need a guide and someone to help you, as I helped my brothers. _”_

After these words from _Bloodraven_ , Aegon closed his eyes and breathed deeply, to turn towards Bran, and with a voice that was certainly tense, and a cloudy look with eyes that ranged from deep purple to greyish black, tell him. "Bran, I'm going to be out with Uncle Benjen, I imagine you will have your own doubts to clarify here with _Lord Brynden_ , although as he is specific with you as he has been with me, I believe that you will end up understanding less than you think you understand now." after that, Bran's brother by choice, shook his head slightly, snorted and continued “In a couple of hours I'll see how you are. Don't leave this place.” After which Aegon turned, looked scornfully at Bloodraven, and retraced the steps that had led them to the core of roots from the white tree.

* * *

“First of all, go to the base of the tree. To my left, on a moss-covered cloth are two objects. One belongs to you and only to you. Only you will be able to display this banner, which from this day on will be your sigil and that of your descendants if you have. When you meet again with _all_ the _Dragons_ in Essos, you will have to incorporate a quarter to its left with a howling white wolf with blood eyes, facing to the left. The other object is not yours, but it is yours to give. only you will know to whom and when to give it."

Bran shyly approached the base of the tree, surprised that Bloodraven did not give off any kind of odor _'I could have sworn it would smell like a decomposing corpse, however it only smells of earth and vegetation'._

Leaning over the left side of the tree, Bran found the cloth Lord Brynden was referring to, completely covered in dirt and moss, completely threadbare, to the point that it began to fall apart in his hands. When he unwrap the hilt, he couldn't help but utter a gasp of surprise and amazement. Before him he had none other than _Dark Sister,_ the sword of Visenya Targaryen, Aemon _the Dragon Knight_ and Bloodraven. Around it, acting as sheath, a cloth of exquisite black silk, with silver threads wrapped around it.

When unfolding it to see the steel of the mythical sword, he saw that the black cloth of silk was neither more nor less, than the banner that a little more than a century ago inspired fear and respect in equal parts, among those who contemplated it in front of them. A rampant dragon in silver-white, looking to the right, while ejecting a blood red flame _'The banner carried by the Raven's Teeth at Red Grass Field in the first Blackfyre Rebellion, or before the White Walls of the Butterwell during the second Rebellion.'_

So fascinated was Bran with the discovery of Lord Brynden Rivers' sigil that he had not yet fallen into the smoking steel of _Dark Sister_ , which appeared either totally black, or bathed in blood red, depending on the incidence of the torch light. The ripples in the steel looked like arteries of a living being. ' _Neither Ice, nor Blackfyre, convey this feeling ay seeing it. Without a doubt it must be the most magical sword on earth.'_ thought Bran quickly, although he soon remembered that he lacked to know a sword even more mythical than that of his father or that of his cousin, or this one in front of him. _Dawn. ‘There would be time to know her._

 _Bloodraven's_ voice snapped him out of his reverie “It usually has that effect when you first see it. Remember by the time you decide to give it, that it is a sword that feeds on blood. When the time comes, you will understand. In the meantime you can use it, I think it is light enough for you and thus I am ahead of your cousin in the promise he made you a while ago. If you are going to assume my position as defender and herald of house Targaryen, whose fate is already eternally related to that of the Starks, what better way to do it than with the sword of those who above personal whims and earthly motivations, defended above all and first of all, the house Targaryen. By accepting these two objects, I do not ask you, but rather that, I demand a blood oath, Brandon Stark." Bloodraven's voice became hard, cold and threatening, Suddenly Bran felt a chill all over his body, but he had no doubt what his response would be.

"If with blood I have to swear the protection of my family, I will swear so" he replied with all the seriousness and firmness that he was able to gather, while he rested his temporary sword on the white tree and hung the sigil as a cloak to his back, hooked to the breast plate. When the maneuver was over, he went to grab the dagger his cousin had given him, but Bloodraven stopped him.

“You haven't to paid in blood yet, you will soon, but don't be so eager to do it. You must first understand my motivations and those of House Targaryen. What I'm going to tell you now, except for Aegon to a certain extent, Rhaenys to other certain extent, and the _Conqueror's_ sister-wife, Visenya, only two people know, and one is me. You would be the third in knowing everything then I will disappear, do you understand, Brandon?" Lord Brynden inquired as he rested his bloody eye firmly on Bran’s.

At that moment, Bran was terrified of what it would mean to be Bloodraven's substitute and what the payment in blood might consist of. Horrified at the prospect, Bran asked him. "To accept my destiny, do I have to end up in a tree like you? Is that my payment in blood? Being pierced by a multitude of branches in a dark cave north of the wall, in the middle of nowhere?" Just thinking about it Bran wanted to flee the place.

Noticing his stress and almost panic, Bloodraven calmed Bran down, with a voice that within the magical and beyond, could be described as paternal “No boy, not at all… Your destiny is to fly with the _Dragons._ You will never be chained, but you will never be free to follow your feelings. If you accept, today you will resign to be _Lord_ or _King_ one day. If you accept, you will give up having trueborn children or finding comfort in love. Your destiny will be full of burdens and you will find little happiness in it. But your intervention, your direction and your help can make a difference in the future of living beings in this world. You will _truly_ become the _last Greenseer; the living memory of the world._ Are you able to accept this fate, Brandon Stark?"

Bran began to ponder what Lord Brynden had just told him. It was a very important decision, from which there certainly seemed to be no turning back. On one hand, he always saw himself in the future as a warrior of legend like _Symeon Star-Eyes_ or _Florian, or a_ _King’s_ _Guard_ from the songs like Ser Robin Darklyn, Ser Gyles Morrigen, Ser Steffon Darklyn and Ser Arthur Dayne.

Or even like the _White Lion_ himself _, the Protector of the princess,_ especially now that his aunt and sister were princesses of the dynasty. But it was one thing to be a _King’s guard_ , and another thing what Bloodraven was offering Bran, although in essence he had to give up the same things, it was something completely different. Yet he knew what he must do, and just as his cousin had done, Bran must accept fate and make the best of it.

"Yes, I accept" Bran said solemnly, nodding his head at the same time.

"Agree. As you well know, it all begins with _Rhaenys's dream_ , although you will soon see this…Ten years after the _Conquest,_ Visenya performed her ritual, by which she transported your cousin soul to the five and ten name day of Aegon the _Conqueror_. In that way, Visenya, I don't know if consciously or unconsciously, created a time paradox. Originally she intended to send her brother, herself, her sister and the dragons to the moment the _Others_ awakened _,_ performing an incantation and a spell that had not been performed since the Doom of Valyria.” Bloodraven explained.

"Yes, that's what Aegon told me." Bran said, to which Bloodraven nodded, to continue his narrative.

“Because she did not know it, the power for the spell to completely work required far more blood than the three bastard children of Orys Baratheon, so it really took 287 years for the ritual to become a reality while the ground of the earth in which it had been performed was soaked with enough blood in the form of a sacrifice-offering for the spell. In the end Visenya simply succeeded in that instead of taking Aegon and his sisters forward in time, she merged her, her sister and your cousin and the _Conqueror_ and his sisters into one and same person _,_ for later sending back their souls to theirs presently dead bodies, or in case of your cousin, also resurrecting Aegon’s parents in the process unintentionally. That was because Aegon died in the crypts in front of the tomb of his mother Lyanna, and because your lord father Eddard buried Rhaegar alongside Lyanna. If Aegon had died elsewhere, neither of them would have come back to life, only Aegon. In the same way, the dragons of the _Conqueror_ have been also able to return because Eddard Stark deposited in his sister's grave the three eggs in possession of house Targaryen that he found in the Tower of Joy. Except for the death and resurrection of Aegon and his sisters, which is something fated, everything else in Visenya’s ritual is conditioned by the context in which your cousin died.” Lord Brynden paused for a long time, as the word 'Died' repeated endlessly in the echoes of the cave.

Lord Brynden sighed as regretful or tired, Bran could not say well, and continued to tell the truth after the Visenya ritual eleven days ago, with his otherworldly voice. “The important and crucial thing is that when Visenya performed the ritual, unexpectedly caused the temporal paradox by which your cousin is fated, to always, when he reaches his fifth and tenth day of the name, die for one cause or another, to be resurrected imbued by the soul of the _Dragon,_ where he literally lived, lives and will live for twenty-two days of his name, because it was really him.”Bloodraven paused to see if Bran was still attentive to the story and understanding it. Trying to show that this was so, Bran nodded, which Lord Brynden took as a signal to proceed.

“That same day, Visenya vowed to protect House Targaryen in exchange for curses to be placed on her and her offspring if not. Because the ritual itself entailed the death of at least a member of his family, your cousin, Visenya's life and that of her son were cursed, preventing the continuation of their line. Causing in the long term, Visenya's oath and prophecy as well as Rhaenys's prophetic dream, to be forgotten. At the death of Jaehaerys _the Old_ , few, if any, member of the Targaryen family remembered the true motivation behind the _conquest_ of _Westeros..._ And so it was until my sister and lover, Shiera Seastar, began to have dragon dreams and I to have visions of the past and glimpses of the future during my sleepless nights in bed. I soon realized that I was a skin-changer, a warg, but more than that, I was a _Greenseer_. I had the ability to see the past through the eyes of the _Old Gods_ , through the _Weirwoods Trees_ scattered throughout the world. You also have that ability, and if the _singers are not wrong_ you will be the last and the most powerful. You will be able to access the consciousness of any living being, even humans… but I'm getting ahead of myself… Upon discovering Visenya's prophecy and oath, my sister and I discovered that the first _Long night_ was was defeated by two people; your past self, Brandon _the Builder_ and the _first_ _Dragon or first Valyrian,_ known in memory as _Azor Ahaí_ or the _Last Hero,_ but whose real name I don’t know _.”_ when Bloodraven stopped again in his speech, Bran, who was beginning to see a pattern to where the conversation could lead, asked the former _Hand of the King_ of two Kings of _Westeros._

 _"He_ was the person you referred earlier when talking to my cousin, right?" When Bloodraven nodded, and seeing that he had not developed the story of the first dragon for his cousin, Bran asked a question that feared his answer

“And is it true that Azor Ahai had to plunge his sword into _Nissa Nissa,_ the love of his life?" Bran couldn't help but think of his sister Arya and Aegon's love for her. Maybe it wasn't an adult love, but there was certainly no one to whom his cousin professed more love than his sister. ' _Well, now that his mother is back among mortals, Arya may have been displaced a bit, but still I don't think Aegon was capable of killing either of them. Not even if not doing so, would lead to the doom of humanity.'_

"That's right, but it was never said that _Nissa NIssa was_ strictly _human ..._ Surely as a Northerner you know the story of the thirteenth _Lord Commander_ of the _Night's Watch…"_ Bloodraven's voice had a certain tone of challenge, to which Bran did not hesitate to answer.

"Of course I know him. In his guards by the wall, one night he saw a white woman, like the full moon on a dark night, and he fell in love... Wait, _Nissa Nissa_ was one of the _Others?"_ the realization was turning every belief Bran had about the first _long night_ upside down.

 _‘If Azor Ahai killed his beloved, how did a Valyrian come to love one of the Others and why did her death not mean the end of the Others, as the legend established?_ ’ Lord Brynden seemed to read Bran’s thoughts, because he began to answer not only the question he had asked, but all the ones that had formed in his head and more that he couldn’t even dream off.

“Before _being_ one of the _others_ , she was also the first ascendant of Valyria, who together with her husband, accompanied a group of the first men on their crossing of the _Arm of Dorne_ , before the _singers of Earth_ shattered by ancient magic. One of the leaders of these first men, was your ancestor, Brandon the _builder,_ hence the presence of his buildings from the south of _Westeros,_ to the _Wall_ in the north of the same continent. He founded your house and helped the first scion of Valyria to temporarily defeat the _Others,_ until they reawakened moved by the imbalance in the _Music of the World._ The builder taught the first Valyrian how to enter the minds of other beings, something that he would later apply with the small winged worms of fire that grew on the tops of the _Fourteen Flames._ Thus the Valyrians tamed the dragons." Bran was totally perplexed. Bloodraven was revealing secrets that no one in the world except himself and one other person knew, and these of course were absolutely changing his view of history, not only of _Westeros_ , but of entire _Planetos_.

“As you can see, House Stark and the blood of old Valyria have been linked from the beginning of the age of men, back to the _Age of Heroes._ Therefore the defender of house Targaryen is not only defending the political interests of the same, but is above that. The defender of house Targaryen is, and that has been my role until today, to ensure that humanity, through the only ones who can defeat the _Darkness_ , the Targaryen as the only pure descendants of _Valyria,_ triumph against the _Others ._ If your cousin is the balance in the _Music_ , you will be the one to correct the score so that it sounds harmonically." Brynden Rivers continued, although Bran was still unable to give coherent form to the wealth of information he was receiving, he knew that at the bottom of everything Bloodraven was telling him, there were the missing answers on how to defeat the _others_ and his fate and Aegon's.

When the old man half corroded by time saw that Bran was assimilating what he had said and nodded at _Leaf_ , who hung the torch from a bracket on the wall of the cavernous room and quickly disappeared by the opposite side to which his cousin Aegon had left.

“Thus, your role as defender of the Targaryen family is part of defending the world from the threat of the _Darkness_ and _Death_. Thanks to the magic of your blood from the first men, which I assure you, you will need, you will help to guide the _Dragon Reborn_. Do you swear that first and foremost that you would only have in mind the good of house Targaryen, even if this conflicts with your own interests?" Bloodraven's voice took on the reverberation of when he spoke to his cousin Aegon, seeming to come from the very bowels of the earth.

At this point, Bran knew he had to continue, so he nodded and said with a firm voice and a determined gaze, fully erect in front of the white tree where Bloodraven's wasted body rested. “I swear on the old and new Gods. I swear on my honor as Stark.”

Suddenly, and without knowing why, something possessed Bran and he continued speaking, but really without controlling what he was saying, as if someone had got hold of him, but in reality he knew it was himself “I swear by earth and water; I swear by bronze and iron; I swear by _ice_ and _fire."_

"It's time." Lord Brynden said to none one. Something in his voice sent icy fingers running down Bran's back. "Time for what?" he asked nervously.

“For your next step. So you can go beyond the oath and learn what it means to be the last _Greenseer_." _Bloodraven_ answered.

"The trees will teach you" said Leaf, who had appeared accompanied by the rest of the _singers_. She had a brushwood bowl in her hands, carved with a dozen faces, like those worn by heart trees.

Inside was a thick, heavy white paste with dark red veins running through it.

"You must eat this." Leaf said dryly as she handed Bran a wooden spoon.

The boy looked at the bowl uncertainly. "What is it?"

"A _Weirwood Tree_ Seed _Paste.”_

Something about its appearance made Bran feel ill. The red veins were just brushwood sap, he supposed, but in the torchlight it looked remarkably like blood. He dipped the spoon into the paste, but then hesitated. "Will this make me a _Greenseer_?"

"No. Your blood makes you so," Lord Brynden said. "This paste will simply help you awaken your gifts and bond with the trees more quickly, because we hardly have time" Before the doubt that would be reflected in his face as Bran could not decide to ingest the lumpy paste, _Bloodraven_ ominously announced

“You will have a thousand eyes, you will wear a hundred skins, you will possess profound wisdom like the roots of ancient trees. In the last _Greenseer_ you will become. Eat the paste and go out to meet your destiny, Brandon Stark.” the voice seemed to resonate within Bran, as he barely noticed any movement in Lord Brynden's mouth.

Finally, Bran ate. The paste had a bitter taste, although not as bitter as acorn paste. The first scoop was the hardest to get down. He almost vomited everything within his body, and had to make titanic efforts to contain the retching it was causing. The second spoon tasted better. And by the third time, the taste was almost sweet.

Why had he thought it was bitter at first? The paste tasted like honey, freshly fallen snow, pepper and cinnamon, and the last kiss his mother gave him before he really saw who his real mother was. Before losing his innocence. Inadvertently, the empty bowl slipped from Bran’s fingers and hit the cavern floor.

"I don't feel anything different. What happens now?" He said, strangely absent from everything.

Leaf touched his hand. “The trees will teach you. The trees always remember.”

The _girl_ like being, raised her other hand and the other singers began to move through the cavern, extinguishing the torches one by one. The darkness thickened and crawled towards them.

"Close your eyes." Bloodraven said, almost commanding. "Put your hands on the roots of the tree. Feel them, follow them across the land, to the trees around the hill where your cousin and uncle are, and tell me what you see."

* * *

Brandon put his hands on the white roots, and suddenly he felt transported. He was no longer in the cavern, nor north of the wall. He was everywhere and nowhere, and he felt as if he was falling down an infinite abyss.

But really, he was not falling, it were the images that passed in front of him at breakneck speed, which gave him the feeling of infinite fall. These images were almost unrecognizable, being Bran only able to distinguish some elements of what appeared before him.

Suddenly, the feeling of falling disappeared, and an image settled in front of him. He was in front of the _Wall_ , but when it had not yet been completed. Men, giants, and animals all worked together to build the enormous wall of _Ice and Magic_ that could now be seen in it foundations, and where just four days ago, Bran had been.

In the foreground, near Bran, a man with some similarities to his father, accompanied by one of the _singers of the earth,_ was saying goodbye to someone, that if he had to bet, Bran would bet all of his belongings that it was his cousin Aegon.

"The _First Valyrian_ and Brandon the _Builder"_ intoned a female voice melodiously, from which Bran had no idea where it came from. The voice was sweet and warm, but it exuded magic in each of the syllables she spoke.

“Even if you don't see her, my sister sees us. You will meet her soon, and like me, she will be relieved by her substitute.” said Bloodraven gravely, who had suddenly materialized beside Bran.

But when it materialized, his appearance had nothing to do with that of the decrepit, decomposing body that was imprisoned in its throne of branches. No, this was Bloodraven as it had been a hundred years ago.

“Don't be surprised by my appearance. If you could see yourself, you would see how far your image is from that of the boy who is now in the cave." before really processing what he was saying to Bran, Lord Brynden continued speaking .

”What we are contemplating is the first _pact_ of _Ice and Fire_ , long forgotten and only brought back during the _Dance of Dragons_ , albeit for reasons and purposes quite different from this first _pact.”_ Bloodraven's voice boomed, and for a moment it seemed as if Brandon the _Builder_ and _Azor Ahai_ were staring directly into Bran’s eyes.

When Bran tried to interact with the two of them, the image in front of him disappeared completely, giving way to a circle of stones, in the center of which rose the largest _Weirwood Tree_ Bran had ever seen, to the point that the one in the cave of _Bloodraven_ seemed small next to it.

Around the gigantic _Weirwood_ , _singers of the earth_ danced, singing a sad and ominous melody in a language Bran was unable to understand.

“It is the ancient language, the language of the _singers_ and before the _conquest_ of Aegon, the language of the first men, but that is not the important point now, Brandon Stark. Look closely at the stones.”

By listening to his newfound mentor, Bran was able to observe how around the gigantic tree were thirteen stones. In each of them, gagged and bound, were the bodies of twelve men and one woman. The silver-haired, pale-skinned woman must surely be the most beautiful woman Bran had ever seen.

"She is the first of us." said with great sorrow the feminine voice of the magical woman that Bran was now convinced, must be Shiera Seastar.

“What you are seeing is the creation of the second _Others._ They are a product of the necromancy and magic of the _singers of the earth_. The first were created to defend themselves from the invasion of the first men, but there came a time when their creations escaped their control, so they had to join the first men and the _first Valyrian_ to defeat them…”without letting Lord Brynden conclude, Brand asked.

"So if they were defeated, why are they coming back now?" Bran’s tone inquisitive and showing certain bewilderment, as he was unable to understand how a defeated enemy could reappear more than eight thousand years later.

“It is the price of a pyrrhic victory; here you are seeing it. The victors had to sacrifice one of their closest family members, to take the place of those they had eliminated. In this way, the balance of the _Music_ would be maintained, and the _singers of the earth_ would make sure that in case of an attack against them, the end of living beings on the world would be signed. After this, the pact of the _Island of the Faces_ in the _God’s Eye_ was signed _._ Remember what is the motivation behind the _Others,_ Brandon Stark, to end all existing life, and at nothing they will stop, because they understand that the pact between the _singers_ and the first men was violated, first by the _Andals_ and then specially, by house Targaryen." Was Bloodraven's reverberating reply.

Before Bran could question Lord Brynden, or delve into the details of the scene before him, he suddenly felt as if everything in front of him was being moved.

When the movement of images ceased, he found himself in a large and elegantly ornamented dark and damp room, in what he would calculate would be the _hour of the wolf._ In the background was the incessant sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the smell of salt and sulfur permeated Bran's sense of smell.

"Where we are?" Bran asked, totally unable to locate where they were.

"In the rooms of _Aegon the Conqueror_ in _Dragonstone; t_ he ones of your cousin and the love of his life." Bloodraven told him, pointing with his extended right arm towards a huge bed that was attached to the north wall of the room. In it, two figures could be distinguished. Their bodies entwined in an embrace of love and affection, while they slept peacefully. One of the figures was undoubtedly his cousin, or in this case, the _Conqueror._ The other was a woman even more beautiful than _Nissa Nissa_. She was a true goddess from Old Valyria.

“This is Rhaenys Targaryen, the love of your cousin's life. Aegon’s other half." Shiera Seastar's magical voice echoed warmly and sweetly from Bran’s cousin's rooms at _Dragonstone._ As he approached the bed, Bran thought for a moment that Rhaenys had realized they were there, as she suddenly shot out of bed, in a state of frenzy and panic, while crying uncontrollably.

The color had left her and she was shivering and drenched in cold sweat, huddled in the corner of the room. As she wept in a heartbroken manner, a dragon roared in the distance and Rhaenys Targaryen's gaze was one of utter panic. She was so scared that neither her cousin Aegon first, nor later his sister-wife Visenya, who had come after the screams, knew how to calm her down.

"Creatures of Ice, with eyes blue as the sky, staring at me as a snowstorm engulfed me …" Aegon's sister began to speak in a low, trembling, almost lifeless tone.

"What are you talking about Rhaenys?" Visenya Targaryen asked, crouching down until she was in her sister's line of sight, looking somewhat annoyed, in Bran's opinion.

"The dream ... it was real ... I could feel the cold ... the cold wind that pierced my skin like blades." the _Conqueror's_ little sister continued between sobs, but regaining a certain calm and tranquility in her tone.

“Between me and the ice monsters there was only a hidden dragon in the shadows and the snow… he tried to save me, but at the end, one of the pale and ethereal ice monsters pierced his chest with its translucent sword. Then it looked at me and let out a moan that sounded like laughter and percussed in my ears… and… then it killed me…” Rhaenys cried uncontrollably again, again curling up against the corner of the wall and the floor.

Aegon leaned down to hug Rhaenys's shrunken body, while Visenya now looked genuinely worried. Before his cousin Aegon could realize it, Visenya pushed him aside and grabbed Rhaenys's chin, staring at her but with a certain sweetness that Bran never would have imagined the _Warrior Queen_ could have.

“ _Are_ you saying that you have dreamed of the legend of the _Darkness brought by the Others and the story of Azor Ahai in Essos?_ What else did you see, _what_ do you remember, any geographical reference? Something to indicate when or how _?_ _"_ Visenya Targaryen asked with some warmth, but in a voice that carried more and more alarm.

The _Warrior-Queen_ gaze began to swing between her sister and brother, to see if they understood what was happening. Aegon nodded, reassuring Rhaenys with a warm, sweet gaze Bran had never seen in his cousin.

“I think so… I only saw snow and monsters, and a wall in the distance. A huge wall of ice .” said Rhaenys as she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her left hand.

After this, the scene unfolding before him faded and Bran couldn't help but think about what his cousin Aegon had told him and if this was the night the Targaryen decided to conquer _Westeros._ Bloodraven, sensing the question he was about to ask, stepped forward and answered

“This is Brandon Stark. You just saw _Rhaenys' dream_ and the real motivation behind conquering _Westeros_. You will soon be almost ready to take on your new role. ”Lord Brynden said in an increasingly muffled voice.

“But before assuming it, you must understand that history, like life, is not always black and white…history, like life, unfolds in gray areas. Never forget it, Brandon Stark, _Winged Wolf.”_ spoke the magical and sweet voice of Shiera Seastar, which seemed to have given her a new name.

 _'I wonder if this is how my cousin acquired the title of Dragon Reborn and King in the Shadows'_ Bran thought internally, as he tried to understand what Shiera was referring to, with her cryptic words.

Soon, the cascade of images stopped and Bran found himself in front of luxurious rooms, the walls covered with red brick and the floors black marble. House Targaryen sigil was present in every trim and ornament in the room, including the door handles and torch hooks on the walls. When Bran didn't say anything, Bloodraven took the lead.

"The Queen's rooms at the _Red Keep ..._ Pay attention to who will enter through the door, you will surely recognize them." Lord Brynden practically challenged Bran. As he finished pronouncing the sentence, two people entered through the double ebony door.

One was a man, about twenty and five days of the name, his features and the coloring of both eyes and hair exclaimed Targaryen. He wore spectacular armor of burnished and polished steel, with the rampant sigil of House Targaryen rising from his chest. Behind him, a snowy cloak fell to the ground, dragging behind him. At his waist, the same sword that Bran had left resting on Bloodraven's cave, _Dark Sister._

The emotion that overwhelmed him when Bran saw one of his heroes and role model betrayed him, because his voice came out shrill and childish. “Aemon the _Dragon Knight!”_ Bran exclaimed.

"Indeed, that is my uncle Aemon, the father of the future Daeron second of his name." Lord Brynden said with a certain bitter aftertaste and disgust.

Bran had not processed what he had heard for a moment, but suddenly something _clicked_ within him, when behind the _Dragon Knight_ appeared a woman of delicate beauty, hunched over her shoulders and with a sweetness and innocence in her face that seemed to be a mask hiding a great grief "Naerys Targaryen!" Bran exclaimed again.

“That is it, _Winged Wolf._ I guess you don't need to see what follows to know how a child is conceived, right?" Shiera Seastar's voice said mischievously and sweetly, as Bran was plunged into the deepest of darkness.

Just the presence of Lord Brynden Rivers in front of him reassured him, but he seemed to be beginning to fade, as if he was evaporating.

“Your time has come. You already know what you need to know to start your journey. You still have a lot to learn, but only you can do it. Shiera will help you, but remember Leaf's words: trees have memory that people don't. Trees know what is later lost or hidden. Don't forget Brandon Stark. The fate of the House of Stark and Targaryen, as well as of much of life as we know, rests on your shoulders, in the same way that it does on those of your cousin, his sister and his cousin." Bloodraven pronounced in a cryptical, sharp and ominous way, after which, Bran felt totally alone in the dream world where he was. Bloodraven had disappeared, leaving his place for a huge black raven with three eyes, circling a beam of light in the darkness.

"The time has come for you to pay in blood, there is no other solution.” Shiera Seastar's voice practically hummed.

The huge black raven seemed to chime the last words of this one, in a tone that seemed mocking "there is no other solution, there is no other solution, there is no other solution."

"With blood you must pay for your commitment, and by blood you will rise higher than any of your decendents " Shiera's magical voice concluded coldly.

* * *

Suddenly Bran was no longer in the dark. On the contrary, he happened to be in a place bathed in the rays of the sun. He felt his body again, or what he believed was his body.

When he managed to adjust his vision from the darkness to a sudden flash of daylight, Bran saw that he had not returned to the cave, nor really was he in his true body. Without really knowing how or why, Bran was on top of a huge white with black specks courser.

In front of Bran stretched a rolling field, which seemed to be bathed in blood, as two gigantic armies collided in it. Seeing at the army lines in front of him the sigil of the rampant three-headed _black dragon on a red_ background, Bran realized that he must be seeing, or experiencing, one of the different Blackfyre rebellions.

As he looked to his left, Bran observed that a young squire stood at his side, holding up the sigil of Lord Brynden Rivers, the same one he had knotted as a cloak on his back.

Taking a closer look at the battle, Bran appreciated that in the center of the battle line, where it seemed that the battle was being decided, two figures on horseback were fighting each other, while the soldiers around they stood expectantly.

One of the two combatants was undoubtedly the infamous Daemon Blackfyre, who was easily recognized by his famous armor and by wielding the sword that belonged to his cousin. The man he was fighting with was a _King’s Guard,_ who carried a Valyrian steel sword as well.

 _'Ser Gwen Corbray with Lady Forlorn.'_ he fell quickly. Now Bran knew exactly where he was and at what point in the history of _Westeros_ he was: without knowing how or why, Bran was at the site of _Bloodraven_ during the battle of the _Redgrass Field_ , and before his eyes was happen the legendary duel between Daemon and Ser Corbray.

Which meant, that soon he himself would order that _the Raven's teeth release_ their arrows on the royal bastard who pretended to be King _'Although if what I saw of Aemon and Naerys is true, the royal line had to continue through Daemon and not Daeron.'_ but before Bran could process all the situation, he saw how Daemon beat Corbray, but stopped to order that the _King’s Guard_ to be attended of his wounds.

At that moment, silence and calm seemed to momentarily take over the frantic chaos that had been unleashed until a few moments ago.

There were the groans of pain from the wounded, the screams of rage and fear, but other than that, the prevailing cacophony had subsided, giving way to a muffled hum and a surreal calm between the two armies facing each other.

Unable to control his actions, Bran saw how his right arm rose and a voice, which was not his own, but Lord Brynden Rivers. At the same time, words poured through his mouth and his lips "Pull bows" uttered authoritatively, in a voice that could be heard all over the hill where he was, along with five hundred men who were under his command.

"Aim!" continued the voice over which he technically had no control. His eyes were fixed on where Daemon was with his children. Bran’s right arm, which had been raised, had been directed towards his back, where a wonderful longbow of _weirwood_ rested.

Before he knew it, he had loaded a bolt and was hitting one of Daemon Blackfyre's sons. And so, without really intervening, or being able to avoid it, he released the arrow while ordering with a booming voice. “Fire at will! For House Targaryen!" while watching a black cloud of arrows headed towards the center of the Blackfyre vanguard, where Daemon and his sons still were.

Bran watched helplessly as before the eleventh day of his name was fulfilled, an arrow released by his hand and his bow pierced Aegon Blackfyre's throat. His father Daemon, did not seem to appreciate that after the arrow thrown by Bran, there was a rain of arrows in his direction, because after giving a cry of sorrow and fury, Daemon launched himself after the fallen body of his son, receiving up to seven impacts on his body, dying on the spot. The second of his twin sons, Aemon Blackfyre, went for his father's sword, but soon a new volley of arrows brought him the same fate as his father and brother.

Although the fighters did not know it yet, Bran knew that the first Blackfyre rebellion had ended at that time. Now all that remained, was for Baelor's _Breakspear_ forces to come for crush the rebels against the anvil Maekar had prepared.

However, in the time that Bran had devoted himself to apprehend, absorbed as well as terrified, the daunting scene before his eyes, a hard and angry voice brought him out of his reverie.

"YOU! Damn kin slayer!! You've just killed your own brother! All for the weak Daeron and gain power for yourself, when deep down you're just a fucking bastard, like me, like Daeron or the whore Shiera... Oh yeah, didn't you knew? It is seen that everything that you are not able to give her, she found it in me ... When I kill you, I will make her my personal bitch, surely that will cure her visions Hahaha!" the roar in the form of laughter came from Aegor Rivers, _Bittersteel_ , who without Bran having noticed it, had taken possession of _Blackfyre,_ and was on the back of his brown steed with the blade pointed at him, halfway up the hill where he stood.

Without responding to the bravado, Bran or rather _Bloodraven_ , he didn’t really knew and didn’t want to know, stud his spurs and spurred Bloodraven’s horse in the direction of his brother _Bittersteel_ , drawing _Dark Sister_ with his right hand and girdling his shield in his left, while shortening the distance between them. _Bittersteel_ emulated him and began a frantic gallop up the hill, but discarding his shield and helmet in the process.

When both horses collided, Bran would swear that he felt every last of his bones crunch, while had the metallic taste of blood in his mouth _'I have bitten myself from the force of the impact.'_ thought Bran, unable to understand how he was feeling what was feeling, as his body or Bloodraven's, unleashed a powerful attack from over his right shoulder diagonally downwards, seeking _Bittersteel's_ left side, totally unprotected by the absence of the shield.

This, as if the matter was not with him, limited himself to raising his left arm and trying to stop the descent of the sword with his vambrace. Valyrian steel proved its fame, slicing through the forged steel of armor like parchment, sinking into skin, muscle, bone, and sinew, nearly severing the arm in the process.

But Bran soon saw that it was all a ploy of _Bitter Steel._

By pouring all his strength onto the sword arm, he lowered the shield too much, providing an opening which Bloodraven's seven-times-damned bastard brother took advantage of.

In an upward arc from almost the right of his hip towards Bran’s neck, _Bittersteel_ tried to remove the head from Bran’s shoulders. Without quite knowing how, he was able to move his head back at the last jiff, dodging, but not enough to prevent _Blackfyre's_ tip from _ripping out_ his left eye.

After that, Bran fell from his horse hitting the ground hard. But instead of feeling the pain from the fall, he felt like he was floating in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by darkness.

Suddenly, an indescribable pain, as if he had a hot iron stuck in it, began to spread throughout his body from the place where he had his left eye. Bran wanted to reach for it, but he couldn't move. All he could do was drown in such intense pain; a lash that burned through him, running from the socket of his eye to the center of his soul; to the point that Bran began to feel delirious.

Images of the entire history of _Westeros_ and even _Essos_ began to flash past his eyes, but he was unable to understand exactly what was seeing or what precise moment in history he was contemplating.

He did not know how much time was passing; if a second, an hour, several moons or several years. Bran saw the sun and the moon rise and set infinitely times. He saw the passage of innumerable stations. And Bran even saw his own birth.

All of this was mixed and distorted with memories of ‘ _his_ _life?’_ as Brandon Stark, as well as with the memories of what Bran soon realized was the life of Lord Brynden Rivers, and everything he saw during it.

The infernal pain, just as it had appeared, subsided, being a kind of distant memory, at the same time that Bran was plunged into the embrace of darkness.

Not knowing how long he spent suspended in that state, he suddenly felt as if he were elevated in the black darkness,

“Brandon Stark, _Winged Wolf,_ you are now the _Three-Eyed Raven. You are the last Greenseer and the one who will fly with the dragons. From the north of the Wall to Qarth and back, your thousand eyes you will set...Soon we will see each other and claiming to come from Beyond the Shadow you will find me._ _Now go back to your cousin, meet my substitute and come to me._ ” proclaimed ominously, but sweetly and warmly, the magical voice of Shiera Seastar.

* * *

Before Bran knew it, he was back in Bloodraven's cave, lying on the ground, clinging to a root of the tree where Lord Brynden Rivers stood.

When he looked at where _Bloodraven_ should be, Bran only saw the remains of his clothes _'It's as if he had vanished, just like in my vision.'_ Bran thought, suddenly tempted to reach with his hand to his left eye and check if everything he had seen and felt in the visions, it was as true as Bloodraven's fading.

Before Bran could do so, he noticed the presence of two figures that were hunched over him. Turning his head to the left, trying to get up at the same time, he found himself face to face with the faces of uncle Benjen and cousin Aegon, both of whom had expressions of horror drawn on their faces.

"Bran…are you okay?" uncle Benjen asked with a look of panic and concern etched on his face. His eyes seemed about to cry.

Aegon for his part, seemed to find no words, and was looking at Bran with face of infinite sorrow and sadness.

With the reactions of his uncle and Aegon, Bran began to fear the worst and felt that he was about to lose consciousness. The pain he felt coming from his left eye during the trance lasted for less than the blink of an eye, but long enough for him to double over in pain over the floor. Bran wanted to puke, but felt like he was totally empty within inside.

"Bran! Bran! By the old Gods Bran, answer!" uncle exclaimed, practically yelling, as he shook Bran’s shoulder for a reaction from him. But Bran felt exhausted, every muscle and bone in his body ached. He was unable to move. _'I'm going to die in this damn cave.'_ thought Bran, and began to cry like never in his life had.

"Calm down, it's normal" exclaimed Leaf who had suddenly appeared at the side of Aegon

"Brandon Stark, take a deep breath. Breathe and feel around you, feel the roots of the earth. Finish becoming who you are now. ”practically ordered the _singer of the earth_.

Something inside Bran felt compelled to comply with what Leaf exhorted. He started to breathe deeply and the pain and fatigue disappeared. As he concentrated and focused his mind, he realized that he could sense the presence of every animal that was in the cave.

By concentrating more, he could see through his _Direwolf_ and he could feel warm like a summer noon ' _Summer, that will be your name. Do you like it?' Bran_ asked his wolf, who seemed to be delighted to have a name at last, just like his brothers and sisters of litter. Bran could see through _Summer's_ eyes, how his sister Arya and Aunt Lyanna were training in the courtyard of _Castle Black_.

When he stopped concentrating, Bran was back in the cave, in front of his cousin Aegon who had the face of feeling responsible for everything that was happening to Bran, uncle with his eyes full of tears and Leaf, who had what could be described like a sad smile.

“I'm fine Uncle Benjen. Aegon, it's not your fault. One way or another, I would have come to this cave to awake my power, and for that, I would always have had to pay in blood. Better one-eyed than cripple, or one-handed. Besides, I have the feeling that it will help me with my archery skills." Bran said with a relaxed voice and total normality, trying to make less of the fact that he had lost his left eye and that he had just come out of a trance that he himself would not be able to explain.

Before Bran knew it, his cousin and uncle were hugging him so tightly that he could hardly breathe, and so Bran let them know so they would stop.

"Easy, I'm here, I'm fine, seriously. I have many things to tell you and some to show you. How many hours has it been since you left, Aegon?"Bran reassure them.

His cousin and uncle looked at each other with surprised and bewildered faces. Aegon with eyes that were tender and warm, but which contained concern, crouched down to squat in front of Bran, who was now sitting cross-legged and leaning on a root of the white tree.

Taking a closer look at his cousin, Bran saw that he was wearing his full _Valyrian Steel_ breast and back plate and chain mail, greaves, surcoat and even the ruffle on his neck. ' _What a squire I am, my knight had to put on his armor alone. If this is how I am going to help him ... '_ Aegon cut him off his musings, with trembling voice, which cleared up as he spoke, but showed concern and urgency

“Bran… almost five days have passed since I left you here…Meanwhile the _army of the death_ was heading towards here and they almost reached us...We have to leave before it's too late…if you hadn't woken up now, I don't know what we could have done. Until a while ago, we have come to think that you were dead, when suddenly a flame has come out of your left eye and it has… melted it… Sorry Bran, I should have known that a kinslayer was not to be trusted…” but Bran cut him off immediately.

“It is not Lord Brynden's fault. It was my fate. I freely agreed to pay a price in blood in order to assume my destiny, just like you Aegon. We all have a role to play in the wars that are coming. And you Aegon, better than anyone, must accept that this entail sacrifices.” Bran’s voice was firm and hard as it had never been before.

Bran knew what his role should be, and he planned to carry it out. His cousin Aegon seemed surprised for a moment by Bran’s answer, then put on a face of understanding and acceptance. Aegon nodded and stood up, holding out his hand to lift him. Bran took hold of the hand offered by his cousin, standing up.

At first Bran’s legs felt limp, but he soon realized that he had not eaten for almost five days.

Uncle Benjen seemed like he wanted to say one thing, but Leaf interrupted any other possible conversation. With a tone that seemed broken and pitiful, she spoke words that Bran never thought he would hear outside of _Old Nan's_ stories.

"Magic calls magic… The _Others and the Army of Death_ are here” the words made all the hair on Bran’s body stand on end.

His uncle's reaction was one of utter disbelief and Aegon's was tense and on guard, rushing toward the opening that led to the outside of the cave. Without being able to object a word, or really do anything else, uncle, and he after catching _Dark Sister_ , headed in the same direction, accompanied by Leaf.

When they got outside they found Aegon and the _half-hand_ with their swords drawn and on guard, in the middle of a scene out of the worst of nightmares.

Around the clearing, among the lush groves, with an unnatural glow, tens of thousands of blue dots stared at them. _'They are eyes! They are the reanimated corpses of the Army of Others '_ the scene before him terrified him to an extent that even _Red Grass Field_ hadn’t.

All his senses told him to run back into the cave and hide. The top of the hill and the position where the four of them and Leaf stood seemed to be the center of a twister hole of snow, ice, and frozen air that burned Bran’s lungs every time he breathed. Only the fire from the flames of _Balerion_ illuminated the white darkness that was taking over the clearing and the surrounding forest

Balerion was practically _perched_ on the _Weirwood Tree_ , expelling a circle of black fire from its massive jaws around them and the cleft of the cave. In the process the humongous dragon incinerated row upon row of _the Others' wights_ , but for every hundred it seemed to burn to ashes, a thousand seemed to take their place amid the scorched remains of trees and the rivers of mud and melting snow produced by the legendary dark dragon's flames.

“In these conditions we will not be able to fly all four of us on _Balerion_. If Bran and I are able to fly away from here, we would be lucky.” Aegon said bitterly, addressing uncle Benjen and Qhorin the _half-hand_.

The two men looked between each other with some nervousness and concern, although there was determination on their face. ' _Of course staying here is to sign death. Or what is a worse fate, ending up in the ranks of the Others.’_ Bran lamented when he thought of the fate that awaited his uncle or to the _half-hand_

"Calm, there is another exit through the cave. It is a deep and winding path, but it can take you close to the _Fist of the First Men_. _The Others_ won't go after you two. You are insignificant in the general scheme of the _Music_ … But you two…”Leaf said, looking at him and his cousin Aegon, who happened to be by Bran’s side, facing the opening that served as the entrance to the cave.

“As long as you are under the range of their magic, they will sense you, they will follow you, and their goal will be to kill you. You two are the beings with the most magic that exist after us, the ones that are left of the _singers, the green men_ and a handful of other people, but unlike you, none pose a real individual threat to them."

“Only your might combined, could come up with a draw, as did the Builder and the Valyrian who came to help on the _first Long Night_. However, in _Essos_ there are more of your _Dragon brethren_ , and you have something that more than eight thousand years ago they did not have, dragons. Flee now while you can. Get ready. Gather magic of your blood around you. When you return ... Either you will triumph, ending forever with the threat of the _Others_ and the world as it is conceived today ... Or a second long night, this eternal one, will take over all world."

“Flee, prepare and come back. It is the mission that one of the last _singers of the earth_ entrust you, to save the world of our own creation." concluded Leaf in solemn and sad voice, to then go inside the cave where she was waiting for uncle and for the _half-hand._

The snow and ice storm began to roar even louder, putting out even some flames of the _Black Dread._ Seeing that they were escaping now, or they would not, uncle hurried to say goodbye to them, approaching Aegon first.

"Here, take these scrolls." said uncle with a serious voice, as he put his hand to his chest and extracted some rolled scrolls from among his layers of fur, chain mail and leather armor.

When Aegon grabbed them, his uncle closed both of his hands over his cousin's, and looked at Aegon with a mixture of pity and pride, putting on a totally relaxed face.

“I know that you will be the best _King_ this damned continent has ever had and I know that you will defeat the _Others_. If anyone can, it's you, Aegon. Take care of your mother how I couldn't and your cousin Arya. When I go back to the wall, I will go to _Winterfell_ to speak to your Uncle Ned and tell him what we saw today. These scrolls are to advance the task, not because I think that we will not return. One is for Jeor Mormont, the other for your Uncle Ned. In them I talk about the plans for the _Wall_ and the _North_ what you have done this days, while affirming the existence of what we have before us. Mormont may not believe you, so maybe you should threaten him a bit. Still, Qhorin has also signed the scroll, eliminating that only your family is the witness, but still… ”his uncle snorted, while shaking his head

“With your uncle there will be fewer problems. It is with the _North_ that _he_ will have them. I hope I can help Ned as you have asked me…although I don't know if I'll be able to.” uncle finished with a resigned tone, to give Aegon a manly hug, who returned it with the same affection, and with an expression like satisfaction.

After heading towards him, Bran saw how the _half-hand_ and Aegon gave each other a strong handshake and wished each other good fortune, so that later the ranger was lost through the opening that gave access to the cave.

“Bran, say hi to your Uncle Rhaegar for me. Take care of your cousin, your sister and your aunt. Always obey Aegon, except when he is a melancholic pessimist. In those moments put him on track for me. The same I say respect to his father, since in that regard, they are one for which. You must be proud to be the squire of your cousin and his father. In a thousand years songs will be sung about you, Bran.” said uncle in the warmest and most familiar voice he could articulate in a situation like the one they were experiencing. After that he bent down and gave Bran a kiss on the forehead and a hug, then turned on himself and lined the gap without looking back.

When Bran turned to look at his cousin Aegon, he was next to Balerion who had descended heavily from the top of the hill to where they were. Aegon was staring at a point in the base of the hill, right there where almost five days before they had landed with _Balerion._

Thirteen pale and ethereal figures seemed to glide through the tide of _resurrected puppets_ that they considered soldiers. Aegon was staring at them. They were tall and gaunt, but hard as old bones, with flesh as pale as milk. Their armor seemed to change color as they moved; at one moment it was white as freshly fallen snow, at another as black as shadow, everywhere speckled with the deep greenish gray of the trees. The _Others_ glided across the surface like moonlight on water with each step they took. In their hands they held long swords unlike any Bran had ever seen. No human metal had entered that sword's forge. They seemed alive, pale in color like the reflection of the full moon, practically translucent, being a fragment of glass so thin that it seemed to almost disappear when it was seen on end. There it possessed a faint blue glow, a phantom light playing around its edges, and somehow Bran knew it was sharper than any sword in the world.

The wind stopped howling and the cold grew, making his breath freeze as Bran breathed, causing him a certain sensation of suffocation. Albeit, it seemed that for his cousin there was nothing else in the world but the ethereal ice beings and himself. _Blackfyre_ appeared totally black, taking on the color of the sky above them.

The only glimpses of light came from the blue eyes of the _Others_ and their _wights_ , as well as Balerion's fading flames. Turning his head towards him, but with his body fixed in the direction of the _Others_ , with a determined look and a firm voice, his cousin Aegon addressed Bran

"If I kill them, it's all over now Bran, no matter what happens to me." proclaimed Aegon with determination and a barely contained rage in his body, as he began to head towards the _pale_ creatures of death.

Aegon’s eyes shined and sparkled, making them look like two purple amethysts at times, and at other times like wells of black ink crossed by raging silver streaks. His cousin seemed taller and exuded a power unlike any other person in his life, not even in his visions in Bloodraven's cave, Bran had seen.

No doubt his cousin was determined to try to end the threat of the _Others_ here and now. The curtains of fire that Balerion expelled from time to time, lifted up to the earth itself, leaving in its wake rivers of melted snow, mud and ashes of what moments before had been the _rows of wights puppets_ of the _Others_ .

The destructive power of the _Black Dread_ , the determined and firm attitude of his cousin Aegon, who could be one of the three best fighters on _Planetos,_ would have convinced anyone that victory over _Darkness_ could be achieved in the first clash of the _Great War._

But Bran was not just anybody now, no. Bran was now the last _Greenseer_ , he was the _new Three-Eyed Raven_ and Bloodraven's successor. Suddenly he remembered what his cousin's nickname was, and what Rhaenys had seen in her dream. Bran knew how it would end if Aegon decided to confront the _Others now_ , and so he prepared to let him know, in almost pleading voice.

"This is not the moment. Like me, you know what moment this is. It is Rhaenys's dream, Aegon. You were there, holding her to comfort her… And you know how it ends… You are the _Dragon_ in the shadows that was trying to save her! Trust me, I beg you!" Bran’s words seemed to stop his cousin's advance in the instant, who stopped advancing towards the pale figures.

Seeing that it had had an effect, Bran continued trying to convince Aegon of the sterility of fighting alone against the entire _Army of Death_ and their masters _._

"If you go, they will kill you and we will have lost before we even start the war! You both know it! Please Aegon, do it for your mother, for your father, for Arya, for your uncles, for us you cry out as your brothers! Do it for what you want most, but I implore you, do not go ahead with your suicidal idea of ending them now, because you will only find death!" Bran finished his declamation, and inadvertently was crying from his right eye, while a warm and thick liquid was dripping from the empty left eye socket, which was freezing down his left cheekbone _'Blood, I'm crying blood'_

Despite the shock of what was happening to him, Bran knew that now more than ever, he had to stop his cousin Aegon from doing something stupid, so he asked him to do so by resorting to something he knew would make him back down yes or yes.

"Rhaenys is alive!" Although Bran knew that he must have kept the information, he also knew that if there was anyone who could stop Aegon from doing what he intended, it was the love of his life. His cousin's reaction was not long in coming, because not only did he stop completely, but he turned towards him with his whole body, turning his back to the _Others._ His gaze showed a great internal conflict, but a new light appeared in it _'Hope. Knowing that Rhaenys is alive has given Aegon hope.'_ thought Bran satisfied with his commission to protect the Targaryen, including from themselves.

“I know you are not lying to me and I am not going to ask you to explain the whole story to me now. For now I only ask that this stay between you and me until I decide when to announce it to my father and mother.” Aegon’s voice implied that there was no possible discussion on the topic, but at least Bran was sure he had achieved his main objective.

His cousin took one last look at the terrible ice spawns, causing his body to tremble, although Bran couldn't tell if it was fear, or fury for not having been able to face the thirteen ghosts in front of them "You! you win!" Aegon said with a resigned tone, barely opening his mouth a little to pronounce it, as he retraced his steps towards where Bran was standing.

There was a fury in Aegon’s gaze that made Bran practically tremble "Let's go, get on Balerion, quick." The dragon seemed to understand his master perfectly, for in less than a blink it was with its neck and back down, its left wing extended for quicker access.

When Bran finished climbing on the dragon’s back, Bran looked over at his cousin and what he saw horrified him.

Without Aegon noticing, as he was facing away from them, heading towards _the Black Dread_ , one of the _Others_ had turned his sword into a spear, which pointed towards his cousin's back. Trying to avoid what seemed inevitable, Bran screeched "Aegon, watch out! Behind you!"

The warning caused his cousin to turn suddenly, at the same moment that _the Other_ threw its spear at him. The impact in the chest sent his cousin flying several meters up the hill, lying on his back near to _Balerion._. The gigantic dragon went practically bersek, rising from the position it was in and began to send out a torrent of dark fire in all directions.

Bran had to cover his face with his hands, because despite the cold prevailing, the black flames of the dragon seemed to be fires coming from the very bowels of the earth. Subject as he was to the saddle chains, Bran barely kept himself on the dragon's back, completely losing sight of his cousin. The feeling of failure in his mission and in his destiny began to flood him ' _I swore that I would defend house Targaryen and because of me, by distracting him I have caused the Dragon Reborn to die ... We are doomed...This will also be my end'_ thought desperately before his fate.

But before he could follow his thoughts, Bran felt the presence of thousands of crows in the air and among the trees. Without quite knowing how, he now saw through all of them. Now _he_ _was_ all those ravens, dominating their minds and actions. So he decided to send them all against the _Others,_ who seemed almost unfazed by the flames of Balerion ' _I do not know what will be able to make crows where the flames of the Black Dread seems to do nothing, but at least I buy time to see how my cousin is.'_

When Bran finally managed to disengage from his grip on the dragon's mount, he slid quickly down the left side of the dragon, falling a few feet from his cousin. Aegon was lying motionless on the ground, face up, but his armor was intact, although perhaps something dented above the chest and the collar that was forged steel had disappeared, leaving in its place a kind of ice collar. His cousin's chest rose and fell as a result of his breathing ' _Well, he's alive. I just have to take him and mount Aegon on Balerion, and make it get us out of here somehow…’_

 _“Cof_ cough cough _”_ suddenly Aegon coughed up blood “Bran… cough cough… Bran… is that you? Am I…Are we still alive?" Aegon asked in a barely understandable voice.

With all the strength and power Bran had in his legs from climb through Winterfell walls, he ran to Aegon. Before him he knelt, helping him up.

"Yes Aegon. I don't know how, but you are whole… I have seen it impact… it should have pierced you from side to side of the chest…” Bran told his cousin with a totally incredulous voice at what his eyes had just contemplated.

Meanwhile, Aegon seemed to have regained his senses, reaching for _Blackfyre_ lying on the ground. Using it as a cane and with Bran’s help, his cousin managed to get fully to his feet, and squeezed him hard on the shoulder where was leaning.

"Thanks Bran. If you did not get to warn me, It would have hit in the back, but not in the backplate, if not in the gap between it and the gorget ... I would be dead ... which by the way, I do not understand why the forged steel has been discarded like melted snow, but Valyrian steel does not ... although I think this is not the time for these musings. Quick get on Balerion and hook yourself to the chain. We're going to get out of here as quickly as possible, before those crows stop distracting them and took aim at something bigger than my back.” Aegon said, breathing heavily as he directed his gaze towards the gigantic dragon.

Bran, who did not know if to tell him yet that the crows were his action, preferred to be quiet and listen to Aegon, quickly climbing on the dragon, being followed by his cousin who had sheathed his sword in the sheath of his back.

When Aegon was pinned behind him, he grabbed Bran with all his might against his chest and said

“Hold tight to Balerion's spikes and bones, rather than the chains. The snowstorm and Balerion's state of mind are going to make this a bumpy trip ... "and then in his mother tongue order the mythical dragon to get them out of there" _Sōvegon eglie Balerion! Adere_ ![[2]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47717173?view_adult=true#_ftn1)"

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47717173?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) Sleep here. We are going to that place. See for enemies, but don't fly!

[[2]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47717173?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) Fly high Balerion !, Quick!


	12. Aegon V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of Aegon and Bran to the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on;  
> "Blah" Talk  
> 'Blah' in cursive, thoughts  
> "[Blah]" in cursive, Talk Valyrian
> 
> In Aejon's internal dialogues  
> Egg, Aegon or Jon, is Aejon The Dragon Reborn  
> The Dragon / Conqueror is Aegon The Dragon

**Twenty eighth, f ifth moon of 297AC. Beyond the Wall, North of Westeros.**

_"By nature, mistrustful, suspicious. The only gods he truly worshiped were honor and duty."_ Melissandre about Jon Snow, ADwD, Melissandre I **  
**

****

* * *

They had finally left the snow and ice storm behind. _Balerion_ seemed to have calmed down a bit and was gliding smoothly at about two thousand meters. Bran was dozing on his chest and shoulder, sitting for so long on Aegon’s right leg, that he no longer felt the weight of his _little brother_.

Despite the heat that his dragon gave off, between the height the cold that the storm had left in his body and the impact of the spear of the _Others_ , Aegon felt as if he were submerged in icy water. Aegon was unable to shake off the feeling of cold that invaded him. _'What I would give to be back on the beaches of Dragonstone, or Myr or Lys'_ thought the _dragon_ _reborn_ to himself, in the darkness of the night and the sky _North of the Wall._

 _'You know something, Jon? After seeing the true threat, I am not so sure of our final success, as when I was in Winterfell without the dragons ...'_

Letting out a snort, he tried to ignore the _Conqueror,_ but the murmur in the back of his head seemed not to stop as well. For that, he entered in the game of _his self_ from the past, or from the future, he did not quite understand it and the truth that at this point he did not care; he had a mission before him and a duty to humanity, which he would fulfill or die trying.

 _'Let's see, enlighten me. Why now my vision, and I quote your words verbatim, "pessimistic" is more true now, despite the fact that we have the dragons again and a moderate support from the North? Didn't you have in mind something like this from the beginning?’_ Jon reproached to _the Dragon_.

The first days after returning to his body of five and ten days of his name were, at best, _interesting_ for describing them in some way, and at the worst, overwhelmingly stressful.

Not only did Aegon find the mother all his life longed for, but also his father, for whom for now he hardly felt anything, neither for better nor for worse. If it was not enough with the ritual, assume his new identity and the return to life of his parents, Aegon also found himself with a conspiracy to overthrow house Targaryen since before his parents allowed themselves to be trapped by their hearts.

To that, had to be added the indecision of his father Rhaegar, the irrationality of his mother Lyanna and the naivety of his uncle Eddard. And face with that possibly the person who had been Aegon’s arch nemesis all his life, _his dear aunt Cuntlyn Tully,_ knew exactly who he was from the time Aegon appeared on the walls of _Winterfell_ at his uncle’s arms, _the honorable Eddard Stark._ That he was not at all the _bastard of her husband._

And yet, Aegon could not exercise justice or revenge on anyone; first because he did not have the necessary resources and manpower; second, to not antagonize with his cousins, whom in some cases, he considered as brothers and sister; and finally, to not appear as a genocidal tyrant hell bent on revenge, at the eyes of _Westeros._

To finish off the matter of his death and subsequent resurrection, _Senya, Bloodraven and Shiera Seastar_ through, from the past he did not return alone, no. Aegon or rather, _the other Aegon, The Conqueror,_ _come with him_ _. The Dragon_ was _transported_ to his mind and soul in the 297 after _their_ _Conquest_ , as _he himself_ _was_ for two and twenty days of the name _in him._

By irony of the _gods_ or, according to some, _fate_ , he was also called Aegon. In that fashion is how Aegon discovered, that everything he had believed to experience and feel through the _Conqueror,_ including making decisions and the feeling of being him, the one who was acting and doing things, was because _it was really_ _HE who was doing those._

 _'Think the irony . The one that at that time believed himself to be a Bastard, conquered the Seven Kingdoms. When we tell Rhaenys about it, she will make the bards compose songs about this'_ replied the D _ragon_ with an animated and excited tone to his question without really answering him.

Although _Egg_ had to admit that _the_ _Dragon_ knew how to lift his spirits, managing to get a smile out of him, but he did not intend to leave the subject of the _Others now._ After all, the _Conquest of Westeros_ and the cursed ritual of his sister wife were made in its name. _'Rhaenys is alive. In that regard, there is hope and joy... but going back to what I just asked you, you really thought that there would be no Others, no Army of Death, right?'_ silence fell in his head. Though deep down Aegon knew the answer, which infuriated him, _the Conqueror_ refused to admit he was wrong.

The _Dragon Reborn,_ snorted once more. His internal dispute seemed to have taken away a bit of the chill that had stuck to his bones, yet it had agitated him and had awakened his brother Bran, who seemed to wake up from his doze.

 _'Bran, the One-Eyed...And all because of me.'_ Aegon thought bitterly, who could not help but feel guilty that it was he who led Bran to his destiny. No matter how sooner or later he had to face it, as Bran had told Aegon after he lived what the _gods_ wanted him to have lived in that bloody cave, and after paid in blood to assume his destiny, as he had to do.

 _Egg_ was more and more disgruntled and disgusted with the price that had to be paid with blood magic, and with the ease that it was used among the members of _his house, house_ _Targaryen_.

Twenty-two years ago, the very idea of considering himself something other than a _bastard, the walking taint of the honorable Eddard Stark,_ _Aegon_ regarded as little less than a betrayal of what he believed to be _his only family and home_ , _the Starks of Winterfell_.

Remembering the lie to which his uncle condemned him for life produced a range of mixed feelings, most of them quite dark and close to hatred. However, those twenty-two years, which were really only fifteen minutes for the rest of the world, served him to truly embrace who he was. They helped him to assume who he really was and what his role in the world was.

Fifteen days after the day of his name that he died and came back to life as a new person, Aegon knew, accepted and was totally proud of his identity and what was linked to it. As Aegon Targaryen, he was fully aware of the responsibilities, duties, difficulties and powers inherent to his position as the head of the _last house_ in which the _blood of the Forty of Old Valyria_ ran and _as the Dragon Reborn;_ rightful king of the _Andals, Rhoynar and First Men; King of Westeros, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Lord Protector of the Kingdom; Lord of the Freehold of Valyria; The Shield of Men…_ and especially after what he had seen that night, the title that made him cringe and the most difficult to accept, based on its relationship with blood magic and the rituals of Old Valyria; _The Promised Prince._

Bran snapped him out of his abstraction in himself, yelling at him for his attention "Aegon!? ... AEGON !!!"

"Sorry Bran, I was too absorbed in my thoughts, were you saying something to me?" Aegon said in an exhonerative tone, lowering his head towards his cousin so that Bran could hear him better, giving a poor excuse for not paying attention to the person who had possibly saved his life a couple of hours before.

“I was telling you if you had seen the fires that are seen behind the forest. There, right to the southwest.” said his cousin Bran, pointing with his right arm towards the diagonal with respect to them. As he followed his cousin's arm, he saw that in the direction Bran was pointing there were hundreds, maybe thousands of bonfires and campfires burn.

Aegon’s surprise at what they were contemplating was evident in his voice “By _seven hells_ , now what are we going to find? No one is supposed to be here, at least not in those numbers…”Aegon finished with a sigh and in a defeated voice, a little bitter that the trip north of the wall was becoming a worse and worse idea as the days passed.

Actually, Aegon hardly knew more than he did before about the ritual, or if he did, he did not have clarity and the tools to decipher the information that had been put before him _'It's the bad thing about riddles and puzzles of prophecies and magic.’ The Dragon Reborn_ lamented internally.

His cousin Bran, whom he considered his valonqar, had been made one-eyed and assumed the role of Bloodraven and Master of Whispers, behaving and expressing himself at times like a grown man who had seen too many winters, when he was only ten days of his name. And that's not to mention his new look, capable of retracting even the toughest of warriors, if the half-hand expression seeing Bran coming out of the cave was indicative of something. His little brother's left eye socket was wide open, with a frozen blood-red tear-shaped stain, below where the missing eyeball should have been.

Until now, the trip _north of the wall_ had served to confirm the threat and existence of the _Others,_ possibly in exchange for uncle Benjen and a _Watch Ranger_ giving their lives. Discovering in the process, that his mythical enemy had more than a hundred thousand soldiers and that the _Others themselves_ , seemed immune to fire and had superhuman strength. Not to mention that whatever their weapons touched wasn't Valyrian steel, it seemed to immediately turn to ice, then fall apart melted.

Now, _to complete the journey_ , they had about ten miles away, what appeared to be a gigantic settlement or camp, but from which Aegon had no idea who it might belong to.

“We should land and explore. Maybe we can win allies among the people _north of the wall._ After all, the blood of the first men flows through their veins just like ours. According to my understanding and what I have seen, they are like us, but with the bad, or good luck, of having been born on the other side of the wall, where the justice of the king and the lords does not exist." His cousin Bran suggested in a persuasive voice, though certainly odd in a boy.

"And what do you suggest Bran? What do we descend on the fucking Black Dread on a settlement that we have no idea if it can be hostile or not, just the two of us? Do you understand that if we were attacked, Balerion would react in the same way he reacted against the Army of Death before? Rather than fear for our integrity, I don't want to stain my hands with the lives of innocents…” he said with a tone that was certainly harsh and authoritative, but not without closeness and warmth.

To which his brother seemed to be totally immune, as he cut him off and In a cold voice that seemed to come from inside Bran himself and not from Bran's lips, he said something that Aegon would never have imagined his _Valonqar_ would tell him.

"Well, if they didn't join you, they would join the _Army of the Others..._ In that case, it would be better if you _killed them_ , before they ended up being part of our final enemy..." the calm and seriousness with which Bran was speaking of eradicating hundreds, maybe thousands of people, made the hairs on his back stand on end.

 _‘Luckily we can't see his expression.’ the Conqueror_ whispered in his head with a certain uneasiness and apprehension, which reminded him a lot of his own when they were close to Visenya in the last years before the ritual.

“Bran, you cannot so easily speak of killing hundreds, perhaps thousands of people, just because they don't want to join our cause. If one day we have to set a precedent by being ruthless, it will not be now. And less after what happened tonight." He sentenced in his Kingly voice, to which his cousin nodded, but it seemed that he was not going to leave it there.

“Still _Egg_ …if you weigh the risk-reward balance…think about it. We could win over the _wildlings_ and lead them to the _wall_ , save them from the _Others._ They can be the foundations of your western army and the manpower that you need so much to undertake your projects here in the _North…_ I leave it in your hands, I know that you will make the best decision..." said Aegon’s _Valonqar_ , letting the message sink in, that without a doubt Bran knew had fully hit on one of Aegon’s greatest concerns; the lack of manpower in the _North._

Not that he mistrusted uncle Eddard, nor his ability to undertake the improvement and reform projects of the _North and the Neck_ that Aegon had commissioned him to do. No, that was not the problem. Nor did Aegon doubt about himself and his ability to get hold of the gold from the _Iron Bank._

At the moment, his first and main problem in the _Wall_ and the _North_ was the small population and the dispersion of this through the northern kingdom. Which is the biggest of the _Seven Kingdoms_. Added to that, was the trouble the fickle Lords of the _North_ would pose, especially when they learned they were working for the cause of a Targaryen and hand in hand with the _wildlings of North of the Wall._

_"I think they would complain about everything that involves working and not fulfilling their whims"_ said uncle Ned a little overwhelmed when Aegon asked if his uncle could deal with their complaints and possible internal discontent against house Stark pending how long his _journey_ though Essos lasts _'That could well be between three and six years'_ did not hesitate in reminding him _the_ _Conqueror_ , as lately it seemed to be his mission to remind _Egg_ of all the things that could happen, to further increase the pressure he was under.

Seeing that there was no answer by his part, Bran continued his exposition "But consider this, Aegon. We descend far away from the camp with _Balerion_. We do a reconnaissance on foot and if there is a chance, we test the waters by negotiating with them. We lose absolutely nothing...And if things go ugly, you are the best _living_ warrior that exists on this side of _the Narrow Sea_ and we have the _Black Dread._ Nothing will happen to us, trust me brother." concluded with total security and tranquility, as if Bran had the certainty of everything he was saying.

Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of bonfires and lights were getting closer and closer, in what Aegon now saw, was undoubtedly looked like a makeshift settlement, from which sprout different tents and pavilion made of heavy leathers skins of animals.

Bran’s security in the plan he had laid out, coupled with the number of _widlings_ camped before them, certainly deserved the opportunity.

' _Maybe the trip to the north of the wall is not as disastrous as it seemed'_ _Egg_ commented internally to _the Conqueror. 'Indeed, now you just have to convince and intimidate them in equal measure and take them to the Wall.’_ The answer from his other self, made Aegon totally convinced of what he had to do now, and so he communicated it to _Balerion._

 _"[Descend quickly and stealthily in the forest near the camp. Let us not be detected. As in Harrenhal but without fire]"_[ ** _[1]_**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47849695?view_adult=true#_ftn1) Balerion immediately reacted to his command, initiating an almost vertical ascent.

Aegon knew what was going to happen next, but Bran did not, and so his little brother let him know, believing that he had discarded his advice "You are not right to despise my advice, but you yourself Egg" Bran said with a certain tone of annoyance and anger, but in his childish voice.

For a moment Aegon wondered whether to let Bran take the surprise of what was going to happen next, but realized that he needed to secure it tightly against him, so he proceeded to tell him what was going to happen.

"Bran, I am heeding your advice. But if we intend to go unnoticed, _Balerion_ cannot flap his wings in the immediate vicinity. He is ascending because he is going to do the same thing we did on Harrenhal, but in the forest around the camp and without scorch everything." said with a proud tone and with some conceit, to the point that without realizing it he was smiling like a fool.

Harrenhal had been a terrible experience at the end, but descending like a silent shadow in the middle of the night, being part of one whole with one of the most legendary creatures in existence, was something indescribable.

When they got to about four thousand meters high and about six, seven kilometers from the forest adjacent to the camp, stretching the body to the maximum, _The Black Dread_ it folded its wings against its body as if it were the point of an arrow, and began the descent.

The chains that held Aegon to the saddle began to tighten, and soon instead of being horizontal, they were practically tilted almost 45 degrees relative to the ground. Aegon took a deep breath, knowing what was coming, as he grabbed Bran as if his life was in it, saying excitedly in his ear "Here we go…Bran, you're going to know the closest thing to what's to be a Dragonlord."

* * *

"By the _old and new Gods,_ Aegon!!! This is what you mean by discreet descent! You have created a two hundred meter clearing in the middle of the forest!" shouted desperate Bran, not realizing that his cries would alert all the scouts the camp of wildlings had, if the _stealthy_ landing of Balerion had not already done so.

"Shhh...Bran!" Aegon said, almost whispering, as raised the index finger of his left hand to his mouth and with his right proceeded to draw _Blackfyre_ from his back. "If they have not found out us with the landing" Aegon lowered his head knowing in a way his guilty at the landing "They will have done it with your screams" he finished censuringly. Bran snorted in resignation and descended from Balerion.

Before he got off his dragon, he went on to admonish Balerion for the landing ' _After all, the blame is shared'_ thought Aegon

 _"[Look around you ... Does this seem stealthy?]"_ said with a certain reproachful tone to _Balerion_ , to which the enormous dragon responded with a snort and a puff of smoke, moving his back, as if seeking the immediate descent of Aegon of his back.

Aegon descended, but still admonished _Balerion again,_ while standing on tiptoe stroking his muzzle. "[ _Next time I need to be stealthy, maybe I'll ask my father to use Vhagar...]"_

The dragon replied with a low-pitched, but reverberating growl, pulling away from his hand. Then he curled up on himself and ignored everything, giving a last snort and emitting a small puff of smoke. ' _Great, just great. Now to pray for all the Gods that we do not need his help.'_

Although _Balerion_ had unintentionally opened a clearing in the middle of the forest because was going too fast and needed more space to land, the darkness of a moonless night so far north, made that when he turned around, he could barely see where Bran was.

The forest seemed as dark as a wolf's mouth. Aegon began to carve a path through rocks, mud, and puddles of melting snow, past large oaks, gray-green sentinels, and black-bark _Ironwoods_ , all pulled and deformed by the impact of _Balerion's_ massive body. In some places, some trees were still stoically and incredibly, standing.

When he reached an uprooted chestnut tree covered in wild white roses, he heard something rustle in the undergrowth in front of him. "Bran! Unsheathe _Dark Sister_ and get behind me. Now!" Aegon told his valonqar in a low and dry tone that did not admit arguments, while internally Aegon was grateful that from almost the moment they descended on _Bloodraven's_ cave they were both wearing their full armor. He drew his sword in front of him and stepped into a defensive stance.

Surely before Bran finished realizing what was happening, the silhouette of three people began to be clearly seen in front of Aegon. ‘ _Three against two and one of the two is a child.’_ However, that was not what worried him. He was beginning to worry what kind of people they were going to face, for he could hear at least one of them rattling as they moved; when he could intuit why, he was surprised. The wildling was armored in bones; cow bones, sheep bones, goat bones, aurochs and elk, the great bones of hairy mammoths…and human bones too.

For a moment Aegon was unsure what to do. He was supposed to be there to negotiate and form some sort of an alliance. However, something in the back of his head, possibly _the Conqueror_ , was compelling him to charge head-on and finish off the three approaching people before they could raise the alarm.

But he knew what he had to do, and if there were two, three, or twenty, he still had to do what he came to do. Bran touched his arm and pointed to the horn carried by the _wildling_ bone-bearer. _'If the friendly approach fails, that is the first one I must eliminate' he_ reflected, took a deep breath and in a clear, harsh and deep voice began to speak.

“Humble people from beyond the wall, we come in peace to speak with your leaders. If you will take us to them, we will be grateful."

When Aegon finished, the reaction of the wildlings in front of him was to emit mocking sounds, at the same time he felt Bran tensing behind him, while he began to hear more noise of bushes and the laughter of people moving in that direction. They were completely surrounded. _"It is time to prove that contrary to what Rhaenys said, we are capable of being diplomats." The Dragon_ encouraged him, despite the poor response he had received after his initial greeting.

Some of the wildlings behind him must have carried torches with them, as light began to shine in the _recently_ created clearing in the forest, allowing him to recognize at least the three people in front of him.

In the center, in a straight line to him, was the man laden in armor-like bones with his helmet made from the broken skull of a giant, and his arms covered with bear claws that had been sewn into boiled leather. In his hands he carried a double-edged war ax, possibly taller than his own wielder

To his left, a man of Aegon's height, but with extremely wide chest, a huge belly and a very long white beard like snow. Was protected by a black coat of heavy mail, that at some point must have belonged to a ranger of the Night's Watch and was armed with two war hammers made of heavy stones.

To his right, a woman considerably shorter than his mother, of approximately twenty days of the name. She was covered in fur and had a round face, crooked teeth, and pretty blue eyes that were set wide in his opinion. The girl's tangled mop of red hair was the most distinctive mark, along with the taut bow pointing at them.

Seeing that the situation could escalate quickly and get out of hand, Aegon tried to appeal to cordiality once more.

“We have no intention of harming you. If you put down your weapons, the two of us will do the same and we can talk. There is no need for a bloodbath.” Aegon said with a cordial voice and with a certain warmth, but without ignoring the veiled threat that was behind his words, since he was very aware that due to the attitudes of the _wildlings_ these barely had noticed why suddenly there was a gigantic clearing in the middle of the forest. _'Our best asset has not been discovered, you can allow yourself to show yourself in the position of power. Although he is proud, you know that if there is real danger Balerion will come to our aid.'_ commented _the Conqueror,_ reassuring him, since the laughter and teasing he began to hear, caused him some nervousness

"HA! THE PRETTY BOY THINKS THEY CAN HURT US HA! HA! HA!" the big man with the white beard began to mock frantically

“ _Crow,_ I don't care what you're here for. Before me I only see a very green boy who thinks he is in a position to threaten us and a little boy whom you have condemned to his death. We do not kneel before anyone. We don't talk to our enemies. We _kill you_ and we live free. If you think that your flowery words are going to change who we are, _you know nothin’ boy.”_ the red-haired woman told him with open hostility, disgust shedding each one of his words.

“Well, whatever you want is the same. We are going to finish them off and take out the precious clothes, armor and weapons that they carry.” said the man protected by bones.

' _Damn, the Others take them. The diplomatic approach has failed, but I cannot turn to Balerion. The moment I release it on the wildlings, there will be no turning back. I'm going to have to opt for the intermediate option.'_ after which, he looked at his back where Bran was and who seemed not even to be there.

Ten meters behind the two of them, fifteen or twenty more _wildlings_ were approaching, all with their weapons drawn and ready to strike. _'Now or never' he_ thought.

"BRAN, ON THE GROUND, NOW!" he ordered his valonqar and started the movement he had thought of. He grasped the hilt of his sword with both hands and took a deep breath, immediately moving into motion..

 _'Balerion, I need you. I'm sorry I just scolded you. You know that I would never leave you for any other dragon. You and me, together until the end, like for the last twenty-two years. Please don't kill anyone, just intimidate as only you can do.'_ he went through his link with the _Black Dread_ , whom returned his feeling of joy to know that he did not want any dragon apart from him. Aegon was still amazed at times, that a being as magnificent as Balerion, could become so insecure about the affection he had for him. For him _Balerion_ was an extension of himself, like _Ghost._

Then everything seemed to happen in an instant. For a moment Aegon could admire the courage of the wildling who reached first for his horn releasing his war ax.

The wilding raised it to his lips, but before it could sound, Aegon took three long strides in the direction of the wildling. With a wide twist, he swung _Blackfyre_ with such force and speed, in an arc from over his right shoulder down and to the left, slicing the man from below his left armpit, to his right hip, essentially cutting the man in half. This one seemed not to have realized what had happened, until his legs collapsed underneath him and his body folded in on itself, dying instantly.

"ENOUGH! THROW YOUR WEAPONS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO ALL DIE!" he practically roared to the wildlings, at the same time that Balerion had made a sudden appearance, appearing heavily behind him, for then emitting a practically deafening roar and blasting his dark fire into the night sky.

The wildlings were terrified and began to flee in all directions, except for the man with the gray beard and the woman with red hair, their weapons discarded, their eyes wide and their mouths open.

Bran seemed unfazed by the whole situation when he got back to his feet, but at least it seemed like he was there again. When the two of them looked at each other, his brother urged him with a nod of his head to try again to speak to the _wildlings_ who had not fled, the thing that had initially put them in this situation.

“First of all tell you that at no time did i intend to end anyone's life. If so, with _Balerion,"_ _Aegon_ pointed towards his dragon with his left hand, using a cold and hard voice, with a low and threatening tone “I could have finished with your entire settlement in less than fifteen minutes."

After those words, he fixed his eyes between the two wildlings, who were beginning to recover from their surprise, but were totally livid.

While the redhead seemed to be completely terrified of him more than from the dragon, the broad, gray-haired man wavered his gaze between him and _Balerion_ with a mixture of reverence, awe and dread.

 _'I think that even for the wildings of North of the Wall, seeing how a man cuts another man in half as if it were not a big deal is something out of the ordinary...Add to that Balerion's introduction to the wildlings...If you wanted to make a statement and show of strength and power, I think you have certainly succeeded. Now we need to talk to their leader.' the Conqueror_ told him in his head _,_ in a tone that could only be described as brimming with pride.

In view of the fact that none of the _wildlings_ emitted any sound, nor did they intend to take any action against them, Aegon decided to shake the blood from his sword and then sheathe it on his back and continue exposing what he intended “Bran, sheath _Dark Sister._ These two good people are no longer a threat to us, right?" Aegon asked them in a cold and severe tone, with a certain threatening edge. His eyes fixed on the older man. This one could barely hold his gaze when answering him

"No. We are not a threat anymore lad...although that gaze you have and that way of wielding the sword...you are not any green lad I think." he said in a low voice, almost to himself and giving off a certain resignation.

"Well, I hope your friend thinks like you. I wouldn't want to kill anyone else today, but if I have to do it to protect my brother or myself, I won't hesitate. And I do not care if it is a woman, a child or an old man.” he sentenced in a slightly veiled threat, while he fixed his eyes on the blue of the red-haired woman. When she felt his gaze, she immediately lowered her head and began to tremble.

“Since we have reached an understanding, allow me to introduce ourselves. This boy here,” Aegon said, now in a more relaxed voice, but without losing a bit of his coldness and edge, as he took Bran by the back with his left arm to put him next to him "is Prince Brandon Stark, my squire, _the last Greenseer_ and my _Master of Whispers ”_

Then Aegon patted Bran on the back, who took two steps forward and bowed his head to the two _wildlings_ who were undoubtedly puzzled. It was the girl who echoed her bewilderment.

"Stark, as in Benjen Stark or the Starks of Winterfell?" the voice was one of total disbelief in the woman, but with a bitter aftertaste and disgust.

"So is. Benjen Stark is our uncle and his father, my other uncle, is Eddard Stark, the _Warden of the North.”_ Aegon confirmed dryly.

The gray-haired wildling spat, regaining a certain defiance, which quickly faded again as _Balerion_ reacted to the gesture, fixing his huge scarlet red eyes on the _wildling_ _._ For her part, the woman still seemed confused and did not hesitate to make herself heard again

"If he is your uncle's son, how is he your brother and who are you?" the _wildling_ woman inquired with a certain challenge in her voice _._

“My name is Aegon Targaryen _The Dragon Reborn_ , _King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men; King of Westeros, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Lord Protector of the Kingdom; Lord of the Freehold of Valyria_ ; _The Shield of Men and The Promised Prince._ My family relationship with my brother is not something that concerns you. Now take us before your leaders and I will be able to show you the way in which we are going to defeat the _Army of Death and the Others.”_ Aegon declared with an authoritative voice that did not give rise to objections.

After that Balerion ran off where he was sulking before, shaking the forest clearing with his mighty hind legs as Aegon began to walk in the direction of the settlement, followed by Bran and, after a few moments of indecision, by the wildling man and the wildling woman _._

* * *

**Twenty ninth, f ifth moon of 297AC. The Wall, North of Westeros.**

“You see how I was right? This slight detour was worth it. If they comply with the agreement, in a year we will have a firm base on the Wall.” Bran told him with a tone overflowing with pride and a bit presumptuous.

Although he never intended to acknowledge it, thanks to the advice of his _Valonqar they_ had gathered the support of all the _Free Folk_ and created in a single maneuver, the first province of his _Freehold of Valyria._

 _“_ As it went well, it could have been a real disaster. Don't forget that I had to kill a ma…”but his valonqar Bran didn't let him finish, stopping him with a gesture of his right hand.

The _Wall_ was getting bigger and bigger on the horizon and it seemed that Bran wanted to take advantage of these last moments on top of _Balerion_ to talk about things that only the two of them could know, talking non-stop since the moment they take off from the _Free Folk_ settlement.

"But it went well," Bran said in his natural voice, shrugging in front of him.

Bran turned his neck and head to be almost sitting on his side, resting both legs on the right side of the base of _Balerion's_ neck _. F_ ixing his crystal blue eye on Aegon’s eyes and returning to use the magical voice that he now seemed to possess ever since he inherited the mantle of _Lord Bloodraven,_ _keep with his explanations_ “From what we have seen later, this _Rattleshirt_ was not the most appreciated of the leaders of _the Free Folk_ , and without knowing it at the time, you have earned the eternal loyalty of the _Thenns_ , which I must reiterate, you must make your new nobility of the new province. I trust Mance and I trust Tormund or Varamyr as well, but if I trust someone we've met, it's Sigorn. He and not his father should be the one who holds the _Thenn_ leadership and so you should make it clear to Rikker…”

As during the entire flight from the settlement of _the Free Folk,_ to that moment, Bran kept thinking about the future plans when all Aegon really thought about was getting to _fucking Castle Black_ and resting.

But Aegon knew, as well his valonqar had repeated it several times already, that as he arrived to the _Wall_ , to his fortune, a part of his plans were going to be put into motion much earlier than Aegon had estimated.

The downside to this was that he would have to present his plan, and implement it, without the presence or support of his maternal uncles. Despite the parchment that had been signed by his uncle Benjen and Qhorin, after all, when he faced the hierarchy of the Watch it would be his word, his brother's, his father's, and possibly his uncle Aemon's, against the beliefs and all the established of a brotherhood that had thousands of years anchored in ancestral traditions and hatreds.

 _'If we had at least been able to bring back one of the Others puppets, we could have easily convinced them… But how the hell did we capture one of those spawn out of the hundreds of thousands there? Before we would have died or worse and you know it. Don't beat yourself up for that.' the Conqueror_ reassured him in his mind _._

 _'Thank you for not making firewood from the fallen tree.'_ he replied with a sympathy and warmth that nowadays rarely used when facing the outside.

“Bran before we arrive I need to order you something and that you swear to me that you will fulfill it and then I’ll ask you two things. So tell me which do you prefer first? The order of your _King and Lord,_ or the questions of your brother.”

Aegon tried to tell Bran without sounding too much like he was cutting off his valonqar’s mental process of developing ideas for future plans, nor that he thought he was treating him as if he was a mere counselor, even though he had been somewhat authoritarian toward him during the stay at the _Free Folk_ settlement. ' _Maybe that way he will also stop thinking only about the plans of the Great War and go back to acting like a child.’_ _Aegon_ thought with hope within himself.

"First and foremost, _Your Grace_ orders. _"_ Bran replied in a voice devoid of all emotion.

‘ _Fantastic. Uncle Eddard is going to kill me...and mother is possibly going to blunt me...What the hell has Bran become?'_ Trying not to show the shock that his _new Valonqar_ caused him from time to _time_ , Aegon clarified his voice, speaking in a warm way, showing him all the affection he had for him, looked at Bran tenderly and said;

“Since first and foremost you will follow my orders, I order you to stop being _The Three-Eyed Raven,_ to be yourself. And to the best of your ability, avoid any mention of your knowledge of the past, or of what happens in the present and that if you do it, if is it outside our family, only after consultation or my order. When you share that information outside of the family once we have talked to them about certain things, try to present it in a way that makes it appear that the information has come to you through a secret network of informants.”

Aegon finished with a smile and humming the old rhyme "Remember, who has a thousand eyes and one?"

Bran looked at him with his now unfathomable eye. The color of the Tully eye, but nothing like the kind of look his brother's mother had.

For a moment Aegon saw a kind of internal debate that was perfectly reflected in the intensity with which Bran’s eye shone and his features tightened, then saw how his appearance relaxed slightly, making that eerie air that Bran now possessed disappear a bit.

Smiling, his valonqar answered with his childish voice. "Okay Egg. I swear. But I also remind you that if it goes against the interests of the common good or the Targaryen-Stark house, I will act upon it."

"Okay Bran, I know. Now the two questions. The first is if you are sure of everything you have told me before about Rhaenys, as well as about my grandmother, _my uncle and my aunt_. The second has to do with an idea that occurred to me while you were presenting the plan. Do you know, or may you know, if there are any wights of the _Army of Death_ near _Castle Black?"_

Aegon asked his cousin. Although internally he would like to know more about his family on the other side of _the Narrow Sea, a_ nd about what _really_ had actually happened during the end of his mad grandfather's reign, Aegon preferred to make sure that what the little Bran had said about this was true and leave it for later. 

The idea of _capture_ a wight was a way, even at the last minute, to obtain evidence of the _true_ threat before arriving to the _Wall_. Thus increasing the credibility in his words which in turn will serve to underline that Aegon’s plan was the only one possible salvation.

“Regarding the first, after seeing how my plan to visit the _Free Folk_ has worked, to some extent it offends me that you still do not have full confidence in me. But I can understand it. I know that more than distrust towards me, it is towards magic. I've seen you murmur against it many, many times. Regarding the second, hold me and make sure I don't fall. I'll be back in a minute.” After which, his little brother closed his eye and when opened it again it was totally white. Bran's body, limp and slack, totally resting between Aegon’s chest and left arm.

 _"[Balerion, fly slowly and begin to glide towards the Wall of Magic]"_ he transmitted to his dragon, to facilitate himself the task of holding his _Valonqar_ in the discomfort of the posture they had to adopt on the saddle-chains attached to the base of the neck of the _Black Dread._

With the _Wall getting_ closer and closer and Bran still in his _trance_ , Aegon wasn't sure whether to try to bring his brother back to his senses or prolong the flight, until suddenly his brother took a deep breath and regained his senses. Stiffness and tension came back to Bran’s body. His eye closed again an instant, to open again, showing its natural color.

“Near the _Godswood_ to the north of the tunnel under the _Wall_ in _Castle Black_ are two of the brothers who were ranging in search of Lord Royce's son and the deserter my father executed when we found _Winter._ Now they are wights of the _Others.”_ Bran sentenced.

 _'Perfect'_ _Aegon_ thought. ' _In the end the journey to the North of the Wall will be very productive.' the Dragon_ murmured in his head.

Reaching less than a pair of kilometers from the Wall and _Castle Black,_ they descended this time, stealthily and carefully through the trees that surrounded the _Weirwood Tree_ of the _Godswood_.

Not knowing how, or from where, out of nowhere suddenly appeared to greet them _Ghost_ and his _brother's_ still unnamed _Direwolf_.

“Look Aegon, _Ghost, and Summer_ feel us for our _warg_ ability in our blood. They knew we were coming here since you decided it. Remember, just like you with _Balerion,_ a part of you will always be connected to your _Direwolf_. Arya and Rickon can also do it to some extent. Robb only subconsciously and I think that Sansa does not have a much of magic in her blood, unfortunately for her.”

Bran began to explain as they calmly descended from the _Black Dread_ , which continued to observe the pups, which were getting more and more large. The dragon was watching them, curious as if they were part of his diet or part of his family.

 _‘Since when is Bran's wolf is named and why that name?_ _Well, I'll have time to ask him._ _At least it explains why I felt Ghost was an extension of me.’_ Aegon thought to himself, while speaking to Bran.

“Bran, watch out now. Even if they are dead, remember that we don't want to evaporate them from existence with _Balerion_ , we want to capture them. Therefore, the fire that is something that we know works to eliminate them is discarded. Our two swords are made of _Valyrian_ steel, and if _Bloodraven_ was right, they are not _useful_ for our purpose either.”

Looking around in the dark of night, Aegon could barely see anything, but the _Direwolfs_ seemed to smell something, as they shot into some bushes on the side of the forest. Bran touched his arm and said “It's that way. They are there"

Following the trail of both wolves, they came to what appeared to be two lifeless bodies, but they had not decomposed, nor smelled, nor did they have blood, although both had deep sword and ax cuts on their bodies.

"Be careful Aegon, they look like some more corpses, but less than five minutes ago they were moving with their eyes totally blue, like the ones we have seen." his little brother warned him, with a somewhat trembling voice devoid of the new mysticism that sometimes now distilled.

Although the last thing he wanted at that moment was to eliminate possible evidence of the arrival of a _second Long Night,_ Aegon unsheathe _Blackfyre_ from above his right shoulder and looked confidently to Bran, while nodding, “Calm now Bran. I prefer to argue for days with stubborn and obstinate men than something happens to us."

Abruptly, both _Direwolfs_ began to growl frantically and to move around the two bodies, which for now seemed to remain motionless and unchanged. Still, the feeling in the environment had changed, to the point that Aegon could swear he felt the same cold again as when they were surrounded by the _Army of Death._

 _Balerion,_ for his part, seemed to have also noticed the change in the air, because without being ordered or asked, began to move heavily towards where he and Bran were, along with the two _Direwolfs_ and the two bodies of the dead black brothers.

The huge head of his dragon were at five meters high and seven meters away from where the bodies were, but the eyes of Balerion were absolutely glued to them. The two lava pits seemed to glow at the sight of the corpses, as if their presence alone enraged the dragon.

As he turned to comment to Bran, he saw that Bran was petrified and with a face of terror drawn on his face "Aegon, they are coming back!" his brother alarmed him.

When _Egg_ rested his eyes on the corpses, he saw that they were getting up and that in their eyes, the blue that would haunt him until the day he ended the threat before him or it ended his person, shone.

Wanting to test the _Bloodraven_ theory _,_ he asked his little brother "Quick Bran, give me your dagger!" to which Bran responded by putting the right hand on his waist and without removing it from its sheath, throwing the dagger at Aegon’s right hand.

As he received it, Aegon drew it, took two long strides until he was less than a meter from the first of the _Others' wights_ , and with speed and precision he drove the dagger to the hilt where the heart should be.

Although it should have killed him, if he wasn't already dead, the _ice slave didn't flinch._ On the contrary, the wight reached with his hands to where the dagger was stuck and tried to pull it out. But Aegon had seen enough.

Without losing sight of the other body that was gradually getting up, he quickly decided that one of the two should be _freed_ from his _magical prison_ and the other should be captured. So he chose to repeat the maneuver he had performed on the petite brother and the dagger, but this time driving _Blackfyre_ on the heart of the larger of the two reanimated corpses. 

As the Valyrian steel penetrated the chain mail, the being ceased all movement, his eyes went dark, and collapsed in on himself.

 _'Fucking Lord Brynden was right. Well, at least he wasn't a liar.'_ _Aegon_ reflected quickly, as he thought about how to be able to capture the remaining _puppet_ , which couldn't finish standing up due to the tight grip of the jaws of _Ghost_ and _Summer_ on his legs.

 _'Jon, I got it! Balerion! Tell him to crush it. With all the broken bones, no matter how much he does not die, he will be unable to stand up and therefore wouldn't pose a threat or really move too much '_ Aegon internally cursed for not having that idea previously so he could have taken the two and make tests in one.

 _'Thank you Egg' he_ thanked _himself_ heartily and proceeded to communicate with _Balerion_

 _"[Crush him]"_ after which the gigantic dragon let out a kind of murmur that could be understood as happiness and began to advance heavy and rapidly towards the reanimated corpse.

When Aegon saw what his dragon was planning to do, he quickly grabbed Bran and ordered the wolves to leave the place.

Half a second later, a blow echoed across the north, shaking the very foundations of the _Wall_. To the point that Aegon lost his balance his valonqar was thrown very unworthily on his chest, while below, Aegon landed on the ground on his back.

When he got up, Aegon could see that the corpse reanimated by the _Others_ was _literally_ buried half a meter in the ground, under one of the gigantic hind legs.

"[ _Well done Balerion]"_ he said to his dragon, as he tenderly caressed the scales of the wing that had half curled around him. "[ _Now you can set it free.]"_

When _the Winged Shadow_ moved, Aegon was unable to understand how the being could still move on. The corpse was now a jumble of splintered bones protruding from between skin and muscle. One of his legs was at a completely unnatural right angle, with the femur protruding below the thigh, maintaining what would have been its original position.

The sight practically turned his stomach, while poor Bran was vomiting what little he had been able to eat thanks to Dalla, Mance Rayder's wife.

Despite the sorry state, the body was still crawling, trying to reach for him, causing _Balerion to_ roar and blaze his flame skyward.

It is seemed that the black brother who was as sentry at the top of the _Wall_ knew that they were waiting for them. Because after the light of the dark fire illuminated the _Godswood_ _and_ the surroundings, setting fire to some of the crowns of the ancient trees adjoining, the horn of the _Night's Watch_ announcing the return of _rangers_ , echoed in the night silence.

“Bran go with the wolves to the tunnel under the _Wall_ and warn whoever is on duty now, to come with some ropes, chains or whatever to hold this _thing_ down. I stay here waiting and watching.” his little brother stared at him for a second, then looked at the _Wall_ to see how far away they were, finally he nodded and spoke to him.

"Do I summon your father?" Bran asked, looking at him with some apprehension, hands clasping non-stop.

"No. Better to tell everything once." Aegon replied more coldly than he really felt or intended in relation to his father.

“Go, request that the Lord Commander and the rest of the Watch hierarchy be summoned to my solar in the Tower of the King, let our family know and that they also must be at the meeting. Again, but most importantly, that a black brother come with the materials I have asked. If they don't listen to you, reiterate that it is my order. If they keep ignoring you, use the wolves or your imagination. In that case, I let you make whatever threat is necessary as long as you don't kill anyone, but hurry up. You have my full support on your actions.”

Aegon told Bran with all the confidence in the world that would know how to carry out his task. After a smile and a nod, Bran started running towards the _Wall_ , the two wolves racing on tow.

Aegon turned to see _Balerion,_ who was keeping an eye on the shattered corpse, but still able to crawl very slowly through the ground and snow.

“[ _Balerion, you can go back to the skies now. Turn the Wall of Magic around and go back to where I am.]”_ after which he tip toed and lightly caressed the nose and snout of his dragon, which had come down to his level, closing his eyes as he caressed it.

They both knew that at least one day they would be without each other and it was their way of transmitting affection and the confidence he most needed.

After their interaction, Balerion took a powerful stride and propelled himself towards the heights, initiating an ascent parallel to the Wall, while a flock of crows flew around the _Winged Shadow_.

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47849695?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) When Aegon / Jon speak in italics, he is speaking in Valyrian ... He does not need translation, as we understand him as if we were him. This will be the case with every Valyrian speaking (Aegon, Rhaegar, Daenerys, Viserys, Rhaella, Rhaenys, Davos, Jaime and within a couple of chapters Bran, Arya and Lya)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading any of the two stories, commenting and leaving your kudos !!  
> Next: The Lord Over The Wall (the second interlude, after the gray rat in the fourth chapter)


	13. The Lord on The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude II

**First moon of 298 AC. Tar-nu Fuin, Forlond By The Wall. North of Westeros**

_"He was the best of us, and the worst as well."_ Qhorin Half-Hand on Mance Rayder

As Mance returned from his daily inspection of the construction progress, the banners of the _Freehold of Valyria_ twirled in the wind coming from the Shivering _Sea_ , whipping the fledgling citadel-tower of _Forlond_ from the northeast. The banners were at the top of the tower to which the rest of the new founded citadel was anchored. This tower was the tallest structure in the citadel, although it had not yet exceeded more than a third of its construction. When it was finished, that would be his permanent seat.

The banners of the _Freehold_ were on a black background with the rampant three-headed dragon Targaryen in scarlet red, which carried under its claws a snarling white wolf with red eyes and a white sun pierced by a red spear. Between them, a dark blue rose hung from them. These had come expressly from _Braavos,_ _along_ with the first ships that brought personnel and skilled labor, as well as mountains of construction, carpentry, blacksmith and forge tools, to help in the erection of the city of _the Free Folk_. A City that was being made with the help of stone, magic, dragon fire, giants, mammoths and ice.

The tower that would exceed the height of the _Wall_ itself, Barad Suvion as it’s called, had on its lower floors, several meters below the level of the sea, the new center of power and knowledge from where _Prince_ Aemon exercised administrative control of the province of which Mance, was the _political_ leader.

But none of this that Mance now saw with his eyes would have been possible without a joint effort of the dragons' bonded to the _Silver Prince_ _and_ the _Dragon King_ , _skin-changers,_ mammoths and giants. And above all of them, thanks to the knowledge from Brandon Stark.

The boy, along with _Maester_ Aemon, and curiously, the _Dragon King_ himself, turned out to be great connoisseurs of construction techniques. In the first two it could even be understandable.

The first claimed to have built the _Wall, Winterfell, Storm's End_ and the _Citadel_ _of Oldtown._ That, and the fact that in the Stark prince’s first life he was known as the _Builder_ , was more than enough guarantee of his ideas and their possible realization. The master, due to his training, was presupposed certain architectural knowledge. But that the reincarnation of the _Dragon_ had great interest in the matter was at least curious.

 _'Dragons will not plant trees, but by all the Gods they do have good ideas for building towers' he_ thought with a certain glee every time Mance looked towards the top of the _Wall,_ where enormous wooden slats rested extending south of it.

The use of the _Wall_ as massive rail, allowed to place massive cranes that were maneuvered from the top. These, thanks to the system of advanced pulleys that rested on the north side and that the _Dragon_ had designed to look like something out of Valyria itself, facilitated the lifting and transport of great weights along the wall.

Despite the nomadic life of _the Free Folk,_ the threat of a _second long night_ was producing a readjustment in their mentalities and ways of life, making the idea of a stable settlement not look so bad.

And that stable settlement was the citadel that was being erected and its seat of power. It was not a flashy construction, nor did it have anything impractical. But it was beginning to be imposing, especially with the tower that towered over it. This had been excavated both vertically in the earth, and horizontally in the ice of the wall, making a link between the wall and the citadel.

At the foot of the tower, sheltered to the south by the double curtain wall that had the shape of a semicircle open to the east, the future port, was now on the other side of a huge embankment of earth, snow, ice and wood that prevented the seawater from penetrating the land inside.

On the dry side of the embankment, the frantic construction of ten dry docks, a military arsenal, and a naval shipyard was taking place. All this occupied a strip of five kilometers of land, which when the embankment was demolished, would become part of the artificial gulf that had been created and that was more than fifteen kilometers in diameter.

The citadel itself stretched almost seven kilometers along the wall and about ten from it, penetrating Brandon's Gift. Practically the whole of the future city was five or ten meters below sea level. That is why the most advanced works were found in the huge shipyard and arsenal.

This work was being carried out with the help of the Umbers, the first manumitted slaves from _Essos_ who were employed by the _Freehold_ , and a large number of stonemasons, carpenters and specialists in ports from _Braavos_ and _Pentos_ , dependent on the _civil administration_ of the _Freehold_.

Really, Mance in the constructions hardly contributed anything, except for directing idle labor towards them. Considered a matter within the sphere of the _Freehold administration_ , all planning, execution, and implementation rested with _Prince_ Aemon, his seneschal the boy Tarly, and the regiment of bureaucrats from _Braavos_ and _Qohor_.

Although most of the constructive devices introduced by Brandon Stark, once put into operation seemed the most obvious thing in history, it was incredible but true that they had been lost in time. A large tree, uprooted and cut in the middle, created two gigantic shovels that, thanks to the dragging of a couple of mammoths by shovel, could drag and move tons of earth. Earth had previously been cleared of all vegetation and subjected to the incredible fires of the dragons.

The operation was repeated countless times and each time Mance saw it, he was grateful that the dragons were on his side; First, the Giants cut down the useful wood of the area, helped by their woolly animals and some skin changers, which, thanks to sleds pulled by the animals they controlled, or with those directly dragging trees, removed all usable wood for construction or for forges and fires.

After that, all kind life was evacuated from the area that had been deforested and cleared, leaving the gigantic black dragon of the _Dragon_ _to_ launch its dark fire on the area. It was so hot and powerful that it lifted the earth, reducing everything in its path to ash.

When the whole area had first been pulverized by the giants, mammoths and the _King's_ dragon, the orange _Prince's_ dragon arrived, with its yellowish flame overheating the bed of ground that has just been raised.

When the flames drowned, mammoth pairs scoured the surface dragging the half-tree trunk, and with it, tons of dirt. In less than two weeks, the four main foundations were built, on which the fundamental and landmark constructions of his political domain would be built. The _Citadel_ , the _Tower_ attached to the wall, the _port_ and _the wall of Aegon._

The latter was originally nothing more than a ditch ten meters wide by five meters deep. After that, the mammoths were used to build embankments on both sides of the trench, with the earth that had been removed.

By the time the _Dragon King_ and his family departed for Essos, around the _Forlond_ site, the part of the double-curtain wall was beginning to be erected, which would be made of stone and that hugged the citadel, tower, port and shipyards in a semi-circular way. Then an arm of the wall extended by the coast until the divide between the _New Gift_ and the province of _Tar-nu Fuin._ At that point it extended west to _Oakenshield_ along almost one hundred and eighty kilometers. Built mostly of wood and earth, but in some specific positions, it had been reinforced with stone from abandoned castles in its part of the wall.

With the exception of _Oakenshield_ , all the other castles, including the old _Eastwacht by the Sea,_ had been dismantled to the ground, using whatever material they could offer. After a slow start, especially due to the absence of internal communication lines in _Brandon's Gift_ , the stones and rocks from the demolished castles made their way to _Forlond_ at a good pace.

Mance was now lord of a population of very different origins and a complicated past. His citizenship was now made up of millennial enemies such as the _Free Folk,_ _old_ _crows_ and _Northerners._ Even there were citizens from the _essosi_ provinces of the _Freehold_ , they come from _Se Ojūdan tala_ _[ **[1]**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/48823739?view_adult=true#_ftn1)_ _, Se Korzion tala_[ ** _[2]_**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/48823739?view_adult=true#_ftn2) _and Valyria Toliot Rhoyne[ **[3]**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/48823739?view_adult=true#_ftn3)_.

Many of these citizens had preferred not to enlist in the _Army_ , but in turn chose their lots of land in _Westeros,_ to start a new life on this continent. Not everyone wanted to bind themselves to _the Black Army_ for fifteen years, even though six gold dragons a year for a mere soldier were tempting.

In the same way, not all citizens had a clear labor. These citizens were the vast majority of the population in the provinces, from what Mance had learned from a scroll from the _Silver Prince_. It was a population that had land, but no economic capacity to develop it, needing the help of the _Freehold_ to survive.

And this was his great function and his role in the province. Mance was in charge of assigning jobs and tasks to those citizens in the age to perform them, in exchange for food, salary or even help for the development of their lands, with which in the long run they would have a source of their own exploitation.

He had to assign thousands of people weekly to tasks such as felling trees, preparing land for cultivation, labor in construction projects or being part of the citizen watch in charge of minor crimes, generally made up from members with moral weight over the other citizens.

Mance was in charge of knowing what was happening among his citizens thanks to the political body of the province. These were all the elected representatives of a clan or tribe, and they had audiences with him every day. In addition, any citizen of the _Freehold_ who was in his province had the right to request a public hearing with him. To which Mance had the obligation to go.

When the laws of the _Freehold_ were broken, Mance had to arrest the criminal with members of their civic watch, then to exercise judgment between Rikker, the elderly _Prince_ and him.

Rikker was in charge of everything military and to judge any breach of laws _against_ the _Freehold_ or house Targaryen. Mance had to judge all crimes between citizens and the break in the citizenship laws of the _Freehold._ For his part, Aemon Targaryen judged all administrative activity, delegating the execution of the sentence to Rikker in that case. Oddly enough, the old maester had handed down more death sentences than he and Rikker combined.

The census was a sacred thing to the _Freehold of Valyria_ and anyone who did not comply or lied to the representatives of the _Free Bank of Valyria_ _would_ carry serious penalties. If the citizen repeated his conduct, all his assets would be seized, his lands and citizenship would be dispossessed, to be exiled. If he reappeared in the _Freehold_ territory, he would be executed.

Although it hurt Mance, a good number of members of _the Free Folk_ found that the contract they had signed and the double oath they had taken was not to be despised.

Because the _Free Folk were_ somehow _on trial_ , the citizens of _Tar-nu Fuin_ had a heavy tax burden based on reparation payments for past crimes. In fact, part of these taxes never left the _North_ , going directly to the coffers of _Winterfell_ and _Last Hearth._

In the future, the tax burden would decrease, but it would be distributed entirely among the remaining northern houses. But for that it was still necessary for his equivalent from the south, the uncle of the _Dragon King_ who made this one pass as a bastard, make public the presence of a province of the _Freehold of Valyria_ at the _Wall_ and that Lord Stark himself had bended the knee to his nephew, declaring his kingdom federated to the _Freehold._

 _'If Great Jon's reaction when Lyanna and the Dragon explained it to him is any indicator, I would pay to be present at the upcoming Northern Harvest Festival. If I weren't a lord, I could sneak in as a bard ... but now I have obligations.'_ Mance lamented, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

Apart from all his _political_ work, he had his military work, being in command of a group of almost five thousand volunteers who were directly under his command. These were in charge of the protection of the roads, communication routes on both sides of the _Wall_ and the security of their half of the _Wall_ and the _Wall of Aegon_. Among these were even members of _the Free Folk_ who remained beyond of the Wall but engaged in the fight against the _Others_ along a small contingent of Umber men with _Small_ Jon at their command, who had hit it off with Sigorn. So they were the informal links between the two military chains of command.

In an emergency, his contingent would come under Mance’s command as an auxiliary infantry under Rikker's Army. The latter already had almost 7,000 enlisted soldiers, according to Ser Jaremy almost an entire army.

Although, to the regret of the _King’s guard_ , his army was almost completely infantry, being in absolutely need of cavalry. There were barely ten thousand horses, and except for the horses coming from _Essos_ which were having a hard time adapting to the conditions of the _North_ , most of the equine that were there, were of the northern type. More designed for hauling, than for battle.

Not to mention that with the exception of a few volunteers from the Umber lands and some dothrakis from _Essos_ , there was hardly any tradition in the use of horses. It is true that four giants, including Wun-Wun, had enlisted the _Black Army_. But the Giant and two of his companions, along with their mammoths and five hundred men led by Val and Jarl, were leaving volunteer to reinforce the bulk of the Targaryen army in _Essos_.

Apparently after the _Gathering of Qohor_ as it was being called in _Essos,_ the _Dragon_ _King_ had managed to enlist almost ten thousand soldiers at once to _the_ _incipient Black Army_ of the _Freehold of Valyria._ It was beginning to be called the black army because of the color of its armor, all of them made of dark _Qohori_ steel, with the sigil of the _Freehold of Valyria_ engraved on the chest. It was armor in imitation of that of the _Dragon,_ but in black forged steel. Even he had and wore one of them now.

The obligatory armor of the soldiers in service of the _Army of the Freehold of Valyria_ it consisted of black leather riding boots, embossed leather breeches over which they wore greaves and knee pads. A plain weave black wool shirt under a surcoat that fell below the waist. On this was a chainmail, on top of which was placed a breastplate and back connected by black leather straps on the shoulders, below where the shoulder pads were placed. The vambraces featured the rampant dragon of House Targaryen in red on the outer side, and the black gorget was specifically designed to fit between the chainmail and breastplate. The helmets were visorless and carved in T-shaped with openings for the eyes, topped by the rampant dragon of House Targaryen in emulation of the closed helmet of the _Silver Prince_.

That noon Mance was going to _Prince_ Aemon's rooms like every evening before nightfall to discuss the state of the province. The day's meeting surely would discuss the discovery of veins of iron, bronze and mercury in some hills near _Hardhomme_.

This was the only settlement worthy of the name _beyond the Wall,_ where there was still population except for the hut of the seven-time-cursed Craster. Between the first settlement and Forlond there were daily ferries by the three commercial vessels that had been towed across the _Narrow Sea and the Shivering Sea_ by the great ships of the _Braavosis,_ with that function in mind. In this way it allowed the continuous exchange of people, news and materials between the two great cores of _the Free Folk._

Along with the discovery in the vicinity of _Hardhomme,_ the meeting would talk as every afternoon, on contingency plans against the threat from the North. First the report of the scouts and the _skin-changers_ would be exposed _,_ reporting on the presence or absence of the _enemy_. When there was a sighting, it was marked on a gigantic map of the known northern lands that hung over one of the walls of the _Prince's_ solar _._ Depending on the reconnaissance, the layout of the lines of palisades, ditches and trenches built deep into the strip that had been created for this purpose beyond the _Wall_ would be discussed.

That strip parallel to the _Wall of_ fifteen kilometers wide, it had been deforested over more than three hundred fifty kilometers, and is now patrolled and maintained by the _Night’s Watch,_ the _Army of the Freehold_ and the contingent contributed by volunteers from its province.

Despite all of that, the star issue to be discussed in the meeting called for that afternoon between the political leaders of _the Free Folk,_ the liaison of the _Night’s Watch,_ the leaders of the administration of the province of _Tar-nu Fuin_ and the special representative of the _Free Bank of Valyria,_ was a sensitive subject and one that had been delayed for too long; That of the _hostages_ or _squires_. The term to be used varied according to the side of the _Wall_ from which the different leaders present at the meeting originated.

And as Mance entered the prince's rooms, he found that the typically quiet meeting oriented towards the development and construction of _Forlond_ was rising in tension and in the tones employed.

“For the umpteenth time, they are squires and pages! Sigorn has been with me for four months now and has received no different treatment than any squire south of the _Wall_ would receive. He is being instructed in the values of _Westerosi_ chivalry _,_ maintaining his belief in the _Old Gods._ I don't see a problem with three hundred boys splitting up between _Castle Black, Winterfell, and Last Hearth._ In the future, they will be the backbone of our armies." Rikker roared defensively from his spot to _Prince Aemon's_ right _,_ while _Great_ Jon Umber, _Admiral_ Pyke, _Master smith_ Noye and the _Watch’s_ liaison Benjen Stark nodded, to the left of him.

In front of them stood the _political representatives_ of his political domains; Tormund, Dalla, Styr Thenn, Varamyr and Harma.

Ser Jaremy, the former black-brother, had taken his duty as a _Kings guard_ seriously and when Mance saw him again after years, he seemed a new man. 

As in Mance’s case, in Rikker it seemed that the color in a cloak could entirely change a person. While in Mance case it was Dalla's multi-colored patched cloak that opened his eyes to the true conflict between _life and death,_ in _Ser_ Jaremy's case it was the snowy cloak of the _King’s Guard_ that made him a better man. Where before there was a hopeless exilied, now stood a tough and shrewd military commander, responsible for the first line of defense in humanity against an enemy from the legends and defending the carriers of _blood_ _of the Dragon._

 _'Although the latter in Forlond is practically unnecessary. The Free Folk worship the Targaryen. Aegon is revered as if were one of the Old Gods_.' Mance thought to himself every time he looked at Rikker too jealous for the safety of the old maester, prince again.

Mance found himself in this situation due to the events of a night almost eight months ago, which he could still remember as if he were reliving it today.

That strange night, northwest of the _Fist of the First Men,_ near the source of the _Antler_.

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/48823739?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) The Lost Daughter

[[2]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/48823739?view_adult=true#_ftnref2) The Daughter of Steel

[[3]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/48823739?view_adult=true#_ftnref3) Valyria On the Rhoyne

* * *

**Twenty eighth of the Fifth moon of 297 AC. Near the source of the Antler river, Beyond the Wall, North of Westeros.**

It was well past the hour of the wolf and in the far north of the camp there seemed to be a huge snowstorm, although beyond the _Wall_ and with the _Others_ back, it was difficult to tell if what was seen in the distance was a natural phenomenon or a product of _Magic._

Mance was resting in his tent next to Dalla, his wife, when suddenly the silence of the night was broken by the thump of something that seemed to have fallen from the sky, producing a great impact against the ground upon landing.

Without much thought, Mance jumped out of his sleeping furs and left his tent, to head towards the large white fur pavilion where some of his trusted men were still drinking around a campfire. These seemed totally oblivious to noise or impact on the ground, so they looked at him in surprise when he appeared among the skins that served as the entrance.

“Tormund, Jarl, _Rattleshirt_. Gather twenty men each and divide into three search parties. Something has happened at the edge of the forest and your fermented goat's milk has made you ignore it." he said dryly to his men and went to the end of the camp closest to where he thought he had heard the impact and the noise.

When then men marched to investigate, from the point closest to the forest at the edge of the camp, the line of trees could barely be discerned. So Mance could only wait to see what news the scouts were bringing, while he listened attentively to any sounds coming from the direction in which they had marched.

After a few minutes in which the sound of silence was only interrupted by animals and nocturnal birds prowling in the vicinity of the camp, a roar like the one he had never heard in his life, ran through the cold night. A roar that shook him and left him frozen in place, feeling how cold sweat began to run down the back of his neck.

 _'By the old Gods. What hideous creature produces such a sound!? That is not the noise of the Others, nor of a mammoth, much less a ranger horn.. '_ Mance tried to rationalize, but his chain of thoughts was interrupted when the darkness of the night was broken by the ghostly glow of a gigantic, dark column that seemed to be composed of flames, rising to the sky for a few seconds, then disappearing just as suddenly as it appeared.

Although brief, it had been enough to attract the eyes of all the occupants of the camp, who after the roar had awakened and were beginning to take positions in case of being attacked.

The silence that followed after the screams of horror, fright and curses coming from the forest, caused the prevailing tension to become practically unbearable. No one knew what was going to appear from the forest, and from what little they could guess, it didn't seem like it was a good thing for them.

Mance did not like at all the situation in which he suddenly found himself involved _'I can fight the Night's Watch and to some extent, I can run from the Others. But whatever is in that forest, it seems to me that could eradicate without much trouble the seventy thousand souls that were placed under my responsibility 'he_ thought, trying to form a quick escape plan. But no matter what he thought, any flight would inevitably result in the death of a large part of the children and the elderly, who could never keep up with the warriors.

Resolving himself to stay on the ground, and as he prayed to the old gods that most of _the Free Folk_ would see a new dawn, Mance steadied his posture and with all the confidence he was able to muster, letting the crescent number of people and even giants that gathered around him, in search of answers and leadership, knew of his decision.

“Whatever creature that roar is coming from, know that it cannot be worse than the _enemy_ we are fleeing from. Because at least if this new enemy defeats us in battle, we will not end up being part of their ranks.” Mance said in the strongest voice he was capable of, although he trembled a little when he spoke. He drew his sword and knife, a gesture that was imitated by all those who were around him and they headed in the direction of the forest.

However before they were within ten meters of the tree line, the _Great Talker's_ voice began to be heard as approached in the direction of the camp. “Listen _Dragon King,_ even if you are prettier than my little daughter Munda, when the _Free Folk_ know what you have done with _Rattleshirt_ , even those of his own clan will respect you JAR! JAR!" the unmistakable voice of the _Husband of the She-Bears_ showed none of the tension or fear that Mance and the group gathered around him had.

 _'No. There is no fear in Tormund's voice. There is reverence. What the hell is going on? And who the hell is the Dragon King? Dragons have been dead for over fifteen years. The King is a Stag.'_ thought Mance, as he relaxed his posture a little. If Tormund come freely talking to someone, there is certainly no immediate threat.

Although the mention of the _Dragon King_ had made him more uneasy than Mance would have liked to admit. _'I will be the King-of-Beyond-the-Wall, but that does not mean that I am not the bastard of a crow and a wildling…'_

Any thought was interrupted, when to his surprise and that of all those present, Tormund and a redhead girl from his clan, appeared before them unarmed and escorted at sword point by a boy of about five and ten days of the name, more than meter eighty tall and incipient silver hair. With a slender and graceful bearing, but athletic, his facial features could only be described as ethereal, possessing a certain elongation that made him a sharp and hard face within his beauty. It was a face that was familiar to Mance, but he couldn't pinpoint from where.

His eyes were two sparks that glowed in the night, oscillating between deep black and silver like that of the armor he wore, emitting purple flashes around his iris. He wore a black surcoat with flashes of red at the neck and breeches of embossed leather dyed black, imitating the scales of a reptile. Above it he wore breastplate topped by a rampant three-headed dragon and precious stones, which was nothing like anything Mance’s eyes had seen and did not seem to belong to this world.

In the right hand of the unknown boy, directed at Tormund's back and that of the red-haired girl who accompanied him, a bastard sword of the same material as the armor, and which, like this, oscillated in color according to the incidence of light. On its forehead rested a band of the same steel as that of the sword, with blood-red square stones that glittered with the brilliance of the torches and campfires. Behind him, a black silk cape fluttered in the wind with a huge scarlet sigil of a rampant three-headed dragon.

The prevailing cold seemed to have no effect on him. As if the boy did not need furs to maintain body heat. Despite his humble origins, even Mance knew what was in front of him. ' _A lord of Old Valyria. A Targaryen. And of course this is not Maester Aemon.'_

Said thought that was reaffirmed when, above the trees, a huge head emerged, accompanied by a long and serpentine neck that preceded the massive body of a humongous dragon.

It advanced clumsily supported on the claws of its infinite wings and making small leaps with its enormous hindquarters, uprooting and overturning tall trees as if they were little branches. Black like the night, but with eyes like the fires of the very seven hells and a double blood-red spinal crest, the presence of the dragon caused some of those present to come out terrified, while the majority showed signs of shock and panic.

Something that even the mammoths of the settlement shared when they felt the presence of the mythological creature. _'Without a doubt, if the dragon wanted to, it could eat two of them in one bite.'_ he shuddered internally.

The impression caused by the boy with the sword and the dragon on his back, made Mance’s and practically everyone ignore the presence of a boy of around five feet, with long light brown hair, almost copper, that covered the left part of his face. The visible eye was a deep turquoise blue, but at times it seemed to be dyed red, white and gray, only to turn turquoise blue in the blink of an eye.

He wore a simple armor of embossed leather, over a pale blue surcoat, from which hung a long black cloak that hugged him. In the center of the cloak, a rampant dragon in silver thread expelling a crimson red flame to the right.

Said child possessed an aura that made him uneasy, instilling in him almost more fear than the dragon even though he was unable to say why. The mysterious boy seemed to be in a world apart from the one around him, but upon receiving a tap on his shoulder from the presumably Targaryen, he came to himself.

As the child contemplated the scene before them, glanced at everything around him, looked at the silver-haired boy, and nodded to a question never asked. _The Targaryen_ sheathed his wonderful sword in the scabbard that hung from his back, taking three steps in their direction, straightened his posture even more if he could and with a glance he surveyed his surroundings.

Clearing his voice first, then in a cold and hard tone, inappropriate for a boy of ten and five days of the name, which is what that boy would have, said "People of the Beyond the Wall, my name is Aegon Targaryen, _The Dragon Reborn. Lord of the Freehold of Valyria and King of Westeros_. Who accompanies me is neither more nor less than the first and last of his lineage, my brother and squire Prince Brandon Stark, son of Eddard Stark, _Warden of the North_. We come in peace, because both you and us have the same enemy. And both we are on the same side. The one of the living."

Silence fell as everyone watched in disbelief and tried to process what they had just heard.

Looking at the picture before Mance and knowing the responsibility that he carried on his shoulders, Mance asked suddenly and almost without realizing it, in a tone that came out more surly and harsh than he intended, but that was possibly from feeling defensive.

"Aren’t you _The Bastard of Winterfell?"_ Seeing the family relationship between the Targaryen and the boy who was a Stark, he recalled his visit years ago to _Winterfell_ and the vision of the sulking boy hiding in the shadows of the ancient castle during his visit to it with _Lord Commander_ Qorgyle.

Those eyes were unforgettable, although if it really was the boy he saw years ago, ' _what had happened to his hair?'_ The bastard of Eddard Stark had jet dark hair. _'And much less am I able to understand how he has the Conqueror's dragon and claims to be the Dragon himself reborn.’_

However, the look full of contempt and rage barely contained when the boy fixed his eyes on Mance, made him understand that he had been correct in his assumption about who the mysterious Targaryen in front of him was.

And this one, no doubt, did not find it pleasant to be referred to by the name that had made him famous in _Westeros._

"In another life and because of the lie created by my uncle _Lord_ Eddard Stark to _protect_ me, I was forced to live under that identity, unaware of who I really was" he growled practically every one of the words, releasing acid in each one of them.

 _'Without a doubt, what I have in front of me is a Dragon and not the Bastard of Winterfell 'he_ thought with some amazement and apprehension at the clearly threatening reaction of the Targaryen. This took a couple of steps in his direction, ignoring the couple of prisoners with what he came, to focus entirely on Mance.

The jaw was set, his body straight and firm. The face seemed to be carved out of white marble, showing no sign of what was going through the Targaryen boy mind. But the lad’s eyes...his eyes seemed to pierce Mance to penetrate in his soul. They were wise and ancient eyes. Eyes that seemed had faced the worst of nightmares imaginable and were still open. Eyes that seemed to have their own light and that imposed almost as much as those of the dragon behind him.

"I was never a _Bastard_ , not even a Stark _really_ ..." he said, clicking his tongue at the end of the sentence, in a kind of bitter laugh, but that for Mance’s taste seemed to contain a fury that poor man who was on the other side of it. "My father is Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and my mother, Princess Lyanna Targaryen-Stark..." the Targaryen pronounced this time with a tone that had certain warmth, within the seriousness and harshness with which he was saying it.

“Although I did not expect the circumstances of my birth to be a nuisance or cause for discussion beyond the _Wall_ …I thought that in these lands a man is what he is by his actions and not by his birth. Who are you that you think you know me? " asked to him unequivocally, in a low, cold, threatening tone that did not admit any interpellation from anyone except Mance himself.

It was a tone that forced Mance to reply. Of course, both the _Dragonlord_ and the _Dragon_ of flesh and fire formed a tandem capable of impressing the bravest, and Mance was no exception. When the dragon rested its eyes on him in the same way as his master, a tremor began to run through his entire body.

After a couple of attempts to articulate a word, in which surely from the outside Mance looked ridiculous as he opened and closed his mouth as a fish out of water, was able to say what was crowding his head, but was unable to articulate.

“My name is Mance Rayder and I was once a brother _to the Night's Watch_ like two of your uncles. You may not remember it, but you and I met seven or eight years ago in _Winterfell…”_ Before ending the story, the Targaryen's eyes seemed to shine with understanding and his gaze stopped being so threatening, to give way to one of contemplation.

"The black brother who liked to sing _The Dornishman Wife_ who came with _Lord Commander Qorgyle..._ Far away from your post on the _Wall_ are you, Mance" Aegon Targaryen said in a tone of recognition and some reproach, which caused Mance’s to immediately put on the defensive.

The boy could be a Targaryen or one of the old gods, but he had his pride. Although this could cost him to end up being the gigantic dragon's breakfast, he decided to be defiant.

“Because how did I tell you, my watch has ended. Now they call me _Mance Rayder, King-of-Beyond-The-Wall._ So, from _King to King_ , tell me what are you coming to my camp to do? What brings a Targaryen and a Stark to the Free Folk's camp? What is your excuse so that we don't kill you right now? Your two families have been in charge of exterminating us like insects for generations, denying a dignified life to the peoples beyond the wall."

“I have come from seeing and confronting the _Army of Death_. Although sadly, I have been unable to make more than a small dent in the mass of malevolent puppets revived by the magic of the _Ice Demons…”_ the lad stopped, as if he didn't understand why he had not been able to defeat the _Others_ alone by himself.

 _'Only with that attitude he must have already won a large part of the audience. Only a madman or someone very sure of himself, can feel confused by being unable to defeat the Army of Death alone and without help_. _'_ Soon the _Targaryen_ restored his inscrutable countenance and continued his speech.

"But believe me when I tell you that if something happened to me or my brother, my dragon would have no difficulty in exterminating you all." Said with all the naturalness in the world _The Dragon King_ , who was now speaking for all the gathered people and giants to hear. The high tone was not threatening, but was dry and firm. This Aegon Targaryen intoned with the same iron cadence with which he had spoken up to now and which conveyed sincerity. Both in what he told, as in the little veiled threats he made.

It was disturbing that the lad could be so calm in the face of the possible threat of his entire camp charging against him, and that the side that felt most threatened at that moment was Mance and the _Free Folk._

Before anyone could refute him, either out of disbelief at what he had just said. Or out of terror at what the gigantic dragon could do if its master was disturbed, this one raised his right arm to silence any possible voice and continued his story.

"I am here, because although it is incomprehensible to you" the Targaryen paused, and then spoke more to himself than to the audience, in something that could be understood as " _hell, sometimes it turned out_ to _me too._ ” after which _the Dragon King_ let the air out of his lungs, took a deep breath and continued speaking in a tone less harsh but more melancholic and metallic than before, not without firmness.

 _“_ Three hundred years ago, my sister Rhaenys Targaryen had a dream about the events that I have lived through tonight and for that reason we conquered _Westeros…_ To unify it in the fight against the first and last enemy of humanity, _Death_. But that is an enemy that you already know better than I do. For something you have now proclaimed a _King-Beyond-The-Wall._ "

The Targaryen had proven quick-thinking and knew how to read perfectly that his appointment as _King_ must be related to the threat of the _Ice Demons._ And despite the incredible story he was telling, in a way was appealing for the _Free Folk_ _to_ understand his position and his goal _'To be the Last Hero of Legends. Although I hope at some point to know how it is that it was alive three hundred years ago and now it is present here.'_

“Unfortunately, in these three hundred years, the original sense of why House Targaryen controlled Westeros has been lost. As my house lost its power, the Seven Kingdoms are not in a position to face the threat until I return to my seat. And although it hurts to accept it, you will not be able to face this threat either. To be realistic, you don't even could to successfully confront an organized army from south of the Wall." The blow of reality that the _Dragon King_ threw in the form of words on the Free Folk It caused some discordant murmurs to be heard and even the guttural growl of some giant.

An earth-shaking roar of the dragon, it quickly silenced the audience.

Deep down, Mance knew that everything the _Dragon King_ had said about his options against the _Others_ and against any _Lord Protector_ from south of the Wall were entirely true. So Mance continued listening to the _Dragon Reborn,_ as he claimed to be.

"What is the point of fleeing from an enemy of legend, for the moment when you cross the _Wall_ nobody believes you about the true threat and they exterminate you?" Aegon Targaryen asked coldly looking into the eyes of all those who had the courage to meet his gaze.

“I have the full support of the _North_ and the _Night Watch._ That is why I am here tonight today. Because just like you, I understood and understand, that both then and now, only by uniting all the men and women, will it be possible to prevent the return of _the Long Night_ and the triumph of _The Others_ _and Death."_ The formerly known as _Bastard of Winterfell_ concluded ominously, with a voice that left no doubt that he seriously believed what said. 

Everyone seemed to hold theirs breaths at that moment. Speaking those words aloud to the _Beyond the Wall_ ran the risk of invoking the very danger that was being mentioned. When it seemed that everyone, the _Free Folk,_ the Targaryen and the Stark, ascertained that no member of the _Army of Death_ had appeared in the vicinity, a general sigh of relief was released.

“I do not ask you to be my allies in the struggles south of the _Wall_ for the _Iron Throne_. I am not asking you to fight for me in _Essos_ by bringing the _Freehold of Valyria_ back to life _._ I only ask form you, to accept lands south of the wall, where you could dwell away from our enemy. I offer you freedom and security in exchange for accepting citizenship of the _Freehold of Valyria_. I assure your protection with my dragons and with the might of my two families. I promise you that you will never lack food or reward if you decide to be by my side." The _Dragon King_ said, with warmer voice than before without any fold in it.

The Targaryen’s gaze was now sweeter and less threatening, to be comforting and confident. The Dragon King’s gesture was totally sincere, open and less threatening than before.

“And when I say protection and defense, I do not mean only military power. I mean food every day in your bowls. When I speak of defending my people, I mean that every citizen will have a roof over his head. And anyone can earn a living with what they know how to do or what they have the ability to do and will be rewarded based on their talent and achievements.” The words were said with a firmness that sounded like an oath and a duty from the _Dragon King_ to fulfill what was saying.

 _'The boy is literally offering the same thing that I was offering, without the need for war, reaching the point of giving them land and rewards. I have little time left as a King.'_ Mance thought with a certain humor, although if he had learned something in this exchange with the _Dragon King,_ _it_ was that every carrot would be accompanied by a stick in case you went out of the agreement.

 _‘And I don't think this boy is very forgiving or very given to giving second chances to those who fail him._ _It_ _remains to be seen what he wanted from the_ _Free Folk to_ _give in exchange for accepting such a proposal’_

“Anyone who wants to join the _Freehold_ needs to access citizenship, for which they must swear an oath of eternal allegiance both to house Targaryen and the F _reehold of Valyria_. This includes complying with and accepting the laws and hierarchy of the _Freehold_ that will be _equal_ , _known and elected_ by and for all citizens _._ I don't need anyone bending their knees, I need loyalty and the signing of a contract between the citizen, the _Freehold of Valyria_ and house Targaryen." The _Dragon Reborn_ just had gave his terms.

 _'And here was the hidden stick. He basically ties people to his House and not just only to his figure. In addition, as he tie them to the new Freehold of Valyria which he's apparently rebuilding as well as preparing to fight the Others and reclaiming the Iron Throne. He is not lacking in ambition.'_ _Thought Mance to himself, while reflecting at the words said by Aegon Targaryen._

 _The Dragon King_ was sincerely convincing some of the audience, especially the young people were looking at the _Dragon King_ as the true answer to all their problems. Or the option to dead on a landscape that was not always snowy and frozen.

Yet Mance understood the _Dragon King's_ words for what they were. There was all the freedom you wanted, but there was an obligation. The obligation to take a double oath of fidelity and submit one and their descendants for the rest of their lives to this double oath. _'To the same conclusion that many elders and clan leaders have come to, from the reaction frowning at the young Targaryen's words'_

“That goes for everyone. Regardless of your origin, gender, religious beliefs or wealth, in the _Freehold_ we are all the same. From the last to the first citizen, who would be House Targaryen, we have a duty to one another and for each other. The Targaryen house will always defend the freedom of all those who have sworn to it and want to be part of its domains.” Concluded _the Dragon Reborn_ with a half smile that conveyed a certain warmth and reaffirmed the security of his words.

After that, the lad that seemed to be from the songs and legends turned on himself with his back to them and marched with his _proclaimed_ _brother_ to the edge of the forest where the dragon was. The Stark and the Targaryen reached it, the _Dragon King_ stood on tiptoe and rested his arms on the huge muzzle of the gigantic beast as if he were hugging a familiar.

When turning around again, everyone was expectant after seeing such an interaction. Next, the Stark child gave the _Dragon King_ a tug on the arm and seemed to say something with his eyes to the silver-haired boy, who once again hardened his posture, his gaze darkened and flashed again as when Mance himself had identified it as the _Bastard of Winterfell._

The black dragon coiled around itself, folding its massive wing in a sort of embrace over the Targaryen and Stark. Covering more than half the lad’s body, but leaving his face for the whole world to observe when he pronounced his next words that left everyone present frozen.

“But I swear to the _old and new Gods_ and I swear by the _Fourteen Flames_ , that if you do not accept my offer, I will reduce this entire settlement to ashes. I'd rather end you now than when you've fallen into the power of the _Others._ Now decide what your fate is, you have until tomorrow noon. _"_

Then the _Dragon King_ layed on the ground, the back on the side of the dragon, while the Stark _brother_ lay on his lap and the dragon's wing covering them both as if it were a membranous tent.

Shortly after the Targaryen finished speaking and lay to rest under the protection of his dragon, a muffled murmur began to be heard among all the people who had gathered to watch unfold the scene, which quickly led to hundreds and thousands of conversations taking place simultaneously.

It seemed that no one in the camp had been left unmoved by what the _Dragon King_ had said. You could hear how people translated what the _Dragon King_ had said as best they could into the _Old Tongue_. Discordant and threatening voices could be heard against the Targaryen and the Stark. And even there were some who could be heard that had already decided to accept the offer regardless of what their families or clans did.

Mance knew that at a time like this, he must rise as the voice of _the Free Folk._

With the dawn and the atmosphere calmer, he would call a meeting of tribal and clan chiefs, making them see his opinion. It was an offer that really wasn't. ‘ _What it is, is an ultimatum.’_

The _Dragon King_ did not ask to fight for him or did not ask to fight south of the Wall. Not even asked for help to fight the _Others. He only_ asked to accept his dominion in exchange for everything that he and his house could offer them. Otherwise they would perish. However, he was convinced that the best option for his people to not perish, was to join this boy who came out of legends and myths.

_'I believe in his words and in his threats. Which makes me believe that he is the only person with true power in this world with the sight set on the true threat.'_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps1: Forlond is designed in the image and likeness of Barad Eithel, but instead of carved out of the side of a mountain, carved out of the wall and the earth.  
> Pd2: This chapter also serves to explain the inner workings of the Freehold provinces in practice, not just in theory.  
> In the next chapter  
> the why of the names (Tar-nu Fuin, Forlond y Barad Suvion, are names in Quenya of constructions of Tolkien's Noldor's. Tar-nu Fuin; Forest under the Shadow. Forlond; North Porth. Barad Suvion; -A mix form High Valyrian and Quenya)-Ice Tower)and the how of the Freehold will be more understandable


	14. Aegon VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meetings at the Wall and an arrival to Braavos. Aegon plans are displayed and started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos !!

** Thirtieth of the fifth moon of 297AC. Castle Black, The Wall, North Westeros.  
**

_"He was three-and-thirty when the Great Council chose him to sit on the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a **boy**. Egg had an innocence, a sweetness we all loved. **Kill** the **boy** within you, I told him the day I took ship for the Wall. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. **Kill** the **boy** and let the man be born." The old man felt Jon's face. "You are half the age that Egg was, and your own burden is a crueler one, I fear. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done. **Kill** the **boy** , Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. **Kill** the **boy** and let the man be born." _ ADWD, Jon II _  
_

* * *

It was already midmorning when all those Aegon had summoned hours before were finally in his solar in the _King's Tower_. Among some reasons and others, the meeting that by now he expected to have finished and overcome, it seemed that it would never begin.

At first, the slowness and parsimony of the black brothers until they reached the place where Aegon was with the _wight_ and his subsequent transport to _Castle Black,_ prevented him from reaching the other side of the _Wall_ earlier than he would have liked.

Aegon thought that with all that lay ahead of him, standing for nearly an hour before the shattered wight was a real waste of time. At least it served to see how the being became accustomed to his presence when Aegon stood still for a long time. If he moved again, the creature seemed to react again and want to crawl up to him.

When Aegon finally reached the other side of the _Wall_ , instead of the image that he previously had in his head of meeting his mother, Arya and his father waiting for him, he only found the sour face of Ser Alliser Thorne to inform him that his mother had passed out in the courtyard few minutes ago, and now was in the rooms of his many times great uncle the maester.

Arya, his _little sister_ was _deep_ asleep, accompanied by his mother's wolf and her own, in their rooms in the _King's Tower._ _A_ nd his _Valonqar_ _Bran,_ had also gone to sleep accompanied by his wolf.

Not satisfied with the first alarming news, Ser Alliser began to follow him by his side, matching the rhythm of Aegon’s step and that of _Ghost_ , to give him a report that he had not yet requested, on the situation of the _Night's Watch_ during his absence.

With the exception of the arrival of the son of Randyll Tarly and the occasional discordant voice against house Targaryen, quickly extinguished, although at no time did specify how, Ser Alliser did not communicate anything of great relevance to Aegon.

When he finally arrived at his great-uncle Aemon's rooms, Aegon found that his mother Lyanna, was sedated, because when she saw _Balerion_ flying without him or his _brother_ Bran on top, Aegon’s mother feared the worst and suffered a nervous breakdown. Because of this, the venerable maester had supplied her with a few drops of dream-wine for her best rest. And Aegon’s father had decided to stay to sleep with her.

Therefore Aegon could do nothing until everyone was either awake or able to attend the meeting, something that did not happen almost until the sun was already high in the sky.

While the various attendees of the meeting were arriving at his solar and taking position in the reduced space, Aegon did not stop observing both Jeor Mormont, as Bowen Marsh, as the newcomer Cotter Pyke, responsible for the vital enclave for his plans for _Eastwacht by the Sea_. Those three men would be his _dance partners_ in the negotiations.

Ser Alliser, Yarwick, or Noye weren't going to be a real problem. And Aegon’s family, was his family, which included the maester of the _Watch_.

 _'Surely, if we convince those three men, or, failing that, impose our plan on them, the rest of the affairs of the North would be entirely under your uncle's jurisdiction. Lord Brynden may be cursed seven times, but we must admit that coming to the Wall, in the end is proving extremely productive.' the Conqueror_ pointed out from within _,_ which seemed reinvigorated after the events with the _Free Folk._

 _'Without a doubt, we are two and one. When it happens to be melancholic and pessimistic, it is almost as much or more than me.' Aegon_ thought animatedly to himself after having seen during the days of waiting in the cave and after meeting the _Others_ , the most pessimistic face of the _Conqueror._

The similarities that they had always had and that were becoming more and more remarkable, served to accept more who he really was and what his destiny and fate was.

When uncle _Maester_ Aemon finally arrived, was given a seat at the left of the desk, after which Aegon and his father sat to his right. Behind them three, were the four _Direwolfs_ lying at the feet of Aegon’s mother, _little sister_ and _brother_. Whom were standing and firm, watching the other side, where only Jeor Mormont had sat at the desk, remaining the rest of the black brothers standing.

Ser Jaremy Rikker stood by the door. _Unofficially_ _the_ _second_ of his _King’s guard_ since before the meeting. And so, Rikker already wore a white cloak on his back, made of thick wool.

_'At least I took advantage of the wait. It didn't make sense for a man like Ser Jaremy to be in the Watch. Since the votes are practically the same and Rikker will have the military command over our half of the Wall in the absence of members of the royal family, was better commute the votes by those of the King’s guard.'_

Jeor Mormont present in the solar from a while later tan the _hour of the Bat_ , barely objected and accepted willingly, having only the highest praise for Ser Jaremy, whom Mormont was sorry to lose, but understood that Rikker, would in a certain way, continue to perform the role he had now. _To be the shield of men_ _._

Despite the place and the situation, a certain courtesy and protocol was kept, since both his family and the black brothers were wearing their best outfits. Because he had returned with only the black shirt, his tight black treated leather breeches, his high black leather riding boots and his cloak, and since Aegon did not intend to wear his surcoat all the time, nor his armor as a garment, nor the clothes he wore as _Jon Snow_ , Sansa wove him a doublet in black wool and velvet, with red trims on the neck and the sigil of Aegon’s house on the chest in red thread, just like the one Sansa had made for his father Rhaegar, designed for these occasions until be able to get hold of one similar to the one he had in the past.

It was curious that he had to have died and risen to receive something from Sansa, Aegon sometimes thought with a certain cynicism. But he had to admit that both doublets were exquisite, as was the replica of his black shirt and cloak that his cousin Sansa had made for Rhaegar in emulation of those of Aegon’s.

The Valyrian steel band that rested on his brow, was not only a symbol of his power and position. To Aegon it was more than a crown; it was part of him. As _Ghost._ As _Balerion._ As the _Valyrian_ steel chainmail and armor with precious stones finishing off the sigil of his house and that Aegon felt like an armor that would protect him from all his troubles when he wore it.

Or as the wonderful black silk cloak that now was crossed over Aegon’s chest to his hip, which felt like Rhaenys's embrace. _Or Blackfyre,_ still uncomfortable when he cinched it around the waist, but that didn't matter.

In a way, the loss and subsequent _recovery_ of identity, supposed that Aegon sought to cling to those elements that he felt as an extension of himself, in order to process and assume his true identity and his function in the world. They were a permanent reminder of who he was and what was his duty to fate.

Focusing back on what was in front of him, Aegon let silence take over the room. He waited to see as the tension grew between the black brothers, who knew nothing of Aegon’s plan, except the possibility that _the Others_ had reawakened

 _'If only they knew the magnitude of the threat ...'_ thought internally, as he steeled his posture, clenched his jaw and began to pierce with his gaze at each of the leaders of the _Brotherhood_ upon the _Wall._

 _Lord Commander_ Jeor Mormont looked impassive, but though discreetly, he kept moving his left foot up and down. _Lord Steward_ Bowen Marsh was pale, sweaty, and looking to be heading for the scaffold. _The first builder_ , Yarwick, had a look and a position that mixed respect and hatred in equal parts.

 _'Be careful with this one'_ warned _The Dragon_. For their part, Cotter Pyke kept his gaze closed on him and his father, although from time to time he cast a look of disbelief at his mother. Ser Alliser had the grim grin and stiff body expression as always, while Donal Noye had a smile on his face every time looked towards Aegon’s father and mother, something he did not understand at all, coming from the man who had forged the war hammer that killed Rhaegar. But that was a topic to inquire at another time.

Now it was his mission to scare the _hierarchy of the_ _Watch,_ _minus Ser Denys,_ into shitting their pants.

‘ _In that way we will start the negotiation with all power and showing ourselves as the only viable option to defeat the threat.’_ _The Conqueror_ assured him, who was certainly a great manager of the times and the scene.

 _'Although you must admit that Rhaenys and Visenya knew how to create the stage for you to show off.'_ Aegon commented to the _Dragon_ with some humor, knowing that if his sisters were present, they would have upholstered the room in banners and would have one of the dragons perched on the _King’s Tower._

When Aegon decided had sown enough tension, he simply glanced at Ser Jaremy and nodded, after which the _king’s guard_ left the solar, closing the door behind him.

Adopting a straight position on his chair while gently resting his arms on the desk, he cleared his throat and began the meeting " _Lord Commander, Lord Steward, Master at Arms, First Builder, Maester Aemon, Lord Pyke and Lord Noye_ , I appreciate your coming to this meeting. I know that our appearance and that of our _THREE DRAGONS_ upon the _Wall_ has involved and can cause many disruptions in your daily routine. But believe me, a cut on time is better than dying of gangrene.” He said in a cold and imperative voice.

Judging from Pyke's reaction, it seems that no one had informed him that despite his appearance, he was not a teenager who peed green grass.

“I have had you gather here to communicate my plans. I know that the _Night's Watch_ does not participate in the matters of the _Seven Kingdoms_... For this reason my plans regarding the _brotherhood_ and what happens beyond the wall, have nothing to do with my plans to recover what is rightfully mine, and that it will be again by _Fire and Blood.”_

When Aegon finished the sentence, he could see how Yarwick and Marsh gave a little flinch. _'Good. Two who are absolutely scared.’_

Mormont for his part was unmoved, while Noye and Pyke now had a certain worried face. It was time to _intone_ the _mea culpa._

“The _Watch_ has long been forgotten by my ancestors, who, like the brotherhood itself, had forgotten their true duty. A _King must_ first and foremost care and take care of the safety of the _Kingdom_ , and the _Night's Watch_ is the first defense of it. But not against the _Wildlings_ ** _. No more, that's over from today onwards_** _._ The duty, which seems long forgotten, is to defend humanity from the final enemy of man; _The Others and Death."_ Aegon said with firm voice.

Upon mentioning the legendary threat and permanent cessation of hostilities with the _Free Folk,_ _Aegon_ received the expressions of disbelief, revulsion, and mistrust that he expected. It was the moment.

“And believe me, _The Second Long Night_ is coming and the _Night's Watch will_ _not_ be able to defeat it alone. The _Free Folk_ will not be able to defeat it. Robert and the other greedy and petty lords of _The Seven Kingdoms will_ _not_ be able to stop it. Only a joint effort of all the men and women of _Westeros and Essos_ can prevent human beings from being part of the past, in a future where only _Death_ reigns.” Aegon concluded with total certainty.

Seeing faces that he was making everything up, Aegon decided to play his first card. Breaking the sealing wax from his uncle Benjen's parchment and unrolling it on the desk, he passed it on to Jeor Mormont for him to read, while reporting what was giving him.

"This is from my uncle Benjen, along with the signature of Qhorin the half-hand, assuring that the Army of the Death and the Others are as real as w.."

Before even finishing the sentence, Yarwick was shaking his head while clicking his tongue and Marsh had a cloudy look.

"I have imagined such a reaction on your part" Aegon said calmly, but with a somewhat cutting voice, while with his left hand, made a gesture in the direction of the two black brothers present who seemed to be most opposed to belive in the return of mighty enemies from legends.

"That's why I personally took care, together with my brother, _His Excellency,_ Prince Brandon Stark, to capture one of the soldiers of the _Army_ of _Death_ , a wight. Army which we have also seen with our own eyes and against which we have fought, and against the which, though it pains me to say, we irretrievably lost. If it weren't for _prince_ Brandon, I would be dead now, just like him and the _Others_ would have added two more soldiers to their army and possibly the largest dragon that has existed since _the Doom_ fell on my ancestral land.” Aegon said ominously, trying to highlight the power that _the Others_ possess _,_ while listening to a deep sigh from Arya and a muttering under the breath of _thank you_ from his mother to Bran.

"This boy is madder than his grandfather..." said the _first builder_ with total disgust.

Aegon had braced himself for insults, but it is seen that his father was not expecting something like that so soon, as Rhaegar shifted uncomfortably on his chair.

“Indeed my grandfather, Aerys, was mad. But I am myself far from being it. Ser Jaremy!" Aegon intoned aloud, so that could be easily heard from the other side of the massive oak door.

As his _King’s guard_ opened the door, the _Direwolves_ became practically uncontrollable, especially _Nymeria_ and _Winter._

 _'They detect and dislike the smell of the magic of the Others’_ thought as Aegon watched Ser Jaremy walk through the door, dragging a rusty iron chain behind. At the end of this, with a knot around his neck that would choke and kill any living being, was the deceased brother from the _Watch,_ Jeffer Flowers.

' _Or what's left of him'_ observed _the Conqueror_ , when the body practically pulverized by the weight and _Balerion's_ impact began to drag itself painfully across the room.

Although at first when finding it in the grove, the reanimated body did not smell, the effect by Aegon's dragon hit, it caused the contents of its intestines to be present in the environment of the solar.

The reaction of the brothers of the Watch was fright and panic, not believing what they had in front of them.

Taking advantage of their bewilderment and fear, with a signal from his right hand, Aegon ordered Ser Jaremy to pierce the back of the revived being with his forged steel sword, pinning him to the ground on the spot.

The scream of horror and terror from his mother and Arya when the being continued to stir, until the sword almost cut it at the middle, allowing some progress again, reminded Aegon why he had not wanted to talk to anyone about the development of the meeting.

No one else in _Castle Black_ , apart of Aegon, Bran, Rikker or the two black brothers who help him broughting back the wight, had seen one of the _Others' puppets_. Aegon especially wanted to know the family's reaction to the vision of what they would have to fight in the not too distant future, without first being influenceds by Bran or by Aegon's narration and description.

Scanning the room, Aegon saw that his father was paler than usual, but a new determination seemed to shine in his eyes, fixed on the _revived_ brother. Arya and mother were embracing behind the wolves that were with their fangs _poking out_ and almost uncontrollable at the _mockery_ of the man before them.

Bran, seemed not even present, observing everything with his turquoise eye, but at the same time as if he were not looking at anything. On the contrary, his uncle Aemon, who could not see anything, seemed to be the one who was observing the most everything that happened in the room. Barely moving a muscle in his face or body, attentive to everything, except to make a little grim face due to to the comment about Aerys and to the smell given off by the crushed, and now as well open to the middle, corpse.

“They can only be killed by fire or Valyrian steel, at least that we know of at the moment. It is possible that the _dragonglass_ also affects them.” Aegon paused for them to fall on who possessed three huge creatures that were fire made flesh.

When Aegon could see the realization on their faces, he continued “As my lords will see, I am not crazy, nor do I intend to use the _Others_ as a pretext to claim what is mine by rights _._ This threat is real, it always has been. It has been biding its time. Waiting for them to be forgotten, the true enemy of men, to strike the final blow at that moment. The blow that according to the original oath, _the Night's Watch_ should stop and repel. Tell me if you are prepared to _**fulfill the founding duty**_ of saving humanity from one hundred thousand more beings like this." Finished in a voice laden with emotion, trying to appeal to the honor and true purpose of the Watch.

The _black brothers_ looked at each other, looked at the reanimated corpse, which was trying to reach them despite its state, held by Ser Jaremy's tight grip on the chain. The defeated faces on the men of the Watch were evident.

Like Aegon, they should know that their barely two thousand, three thousand men, most of them ill-prepared, would be incapable not only of stopping _the Others_ , but only of fighting them for more than mere hours.

' _Just as they would be unable to face our three dragons and the best ten thousand men of the Free Folk could muster, no matter how badly trained they are.' the Conqueror_ reminded him in passing.

Seeing that it was the moment, Aegon gestured to Ser Jaremy with his left hand, who rolled up the chain a little and dragged the body away. Wight which to the repulsion of all those present, was leaving a trail of intestines stuck to the cold floor of stone and granite.

Feeling how behind Aegon’s back, his mother and sister were completely decomposed. While Bran his father and the rest of the men of the Watch, except Jeor Mormont and Maester Aemon, were pale as snow, thus he decided that it was time to adjourn the meeting.

"Due to the condition of the solar, iit would be the best to wait for clean the stay first, and then meet again in half an hour, yes?" question that was rather an order and that was followed by a chorus of _your grace_ , with the exception of the maester, who addressed Aegon’s for first time that morning.

“ _Your Grace,_ as we make the interruption, would you be so kind as to allow your elderly great-uncle to remain during the interruption in your rooms? I fear for my fragile bones by going through the slippery stairs of this tower more times than necessary.” Aemon told him with a warm voice, an ear smile and the lost gaze, which at times seemed to be more keen than that of some who had perfect vision.

"No problem uncle" he said with more joy and familiarity than the situation demanded, after which he got up from his chair and called off the meeting with a nod of his head.

Arya and mother hurried out, followed in tow by the wolves in the direction of their personal rooms. When the brothers left the solar, only he, Bran, Rhaegar and uncle Aemon remained behind.

* * *

“Thanks for your trick to stay with us, uncle Aemon. I could see no way to justify you staying with us instead of them… there is an issue that we, the family, needs to discuss immediately." said Aegon with some urgency, then extended his left arm to Uncle Aemon so that he would hold on to. Then they headed towards their rooms, followed by Bran and his father Rhaegar a few steps behind.

When they reached Aegon’s stay that served as a personal room, he helped his Uncle Aemon to sit in a chair in front of the drawers under the window.

Meanwhile, Rhaegar was standing leaning against the wall near the door now closed, that gave access to the meeting space, with a face of absolute determination, but with a smile and a look full of love and pride directed towards _him_ _._

 _‘Mayhaps I have to give him a chance as a parent, or at least, an equal to me. Maybe I passed judgment too fast on him.’_ _Aegon_ thought with some strange emotion, which he did not know he now was capable of having.

Except for the slight difference in height, the long hair that his father had up to his shoulders, since due to the ritual Aegon's hair was still too short to his liking, and the fact that Aegon’s face was a little longer compared to Rhaegar’s, they could be confused as brothers between them, more than father and son.

One day during the conquest, _The Dragon_ explained _Egg_ that in most cases, people tends to saw what they wanted to see in front of them. And after seeing his father, he now completely understood this.

Now face to face with his father, it was impossible for him to understand that at any time anyone could have thought that Aegon and uncle Eddard Stark were identical when this one was of his age.

And it wasn't just for looks. Like the _Conqueror_ and himself, Rhaegar also had a tendency toward melancholy and closing in on himself. One of the things he had appreciated most about Rhaegar in the short time they had spent together, making plans for their future campaigns, was that like Aegon, Rhaegar appreciated long silences in meditation and contemplation.

Maybe the two of them would never be the soul of a feast, but surely his father was a person who was easy to work with and they had similar mindsets. Besides, they both had something that few people can have. The hindsight granted by having died by personal failures and then coming back to life.

Although perhaps Aegon’s defeat had not been as resounding as Rhaegar’s, both for him and for the _Conqueror_ , the state in which the _Seven Kingdoms_ _found themselve_ _s_ was seen directly as a consequence of their negligence in creating a game that exploited all the evils of the vassal fiefdom system.

His elderly uncle cleared his throat, pulling him out of his thoughts and addressed him "Tell me _Egg_ , is it true that you have seen the _Others and the Army of Death?"_

"Yes. Bran, like my uncle Benjen, the _Half-hand_ and I have seen them. It was just as my sister _Rhae_ described it to me almost three hundred years ago when she had her _dragon dream_. And even if you haven't been able to see it previously in the solar, they, as same as the wights, have bright blue eyes, just as my father describes them as in his dreams...This is between the four of us, but if not for my _valyrian steel_ armor, I am convinced that now I would be dead. Or worse. In a moment of inattention one of the Ice Spawns transformed his sword, translucent but made of ice, into a spear."

Aegon began to narrate in a tone that without intending it, it became more and more tenuous and contained a tremor that he could not completely contain.

After swallowing and taking a deep breath, Aegon continued the narration with barely a thread of voice, while looking Rhaegar in the eyes, so that he understood exactly what they were facing.

“Next with an out of this world force, being about seventy, or eighty meters from me, the _Other_ threw the _ice-spear_ against my back. Bran warned me just in time to turn and for the spear to hit the lower end of the forged steel gorget that instantly turned to ice. The breastplate and the chain mail underneath, both made of the steel of our ancestors, are hardly branded. Of course, I flew about six or seven meters from the force of the impact and I'm still spitting up some bloody phlegm from the impact. Possibly even having a small crack in the ribs ..."

"What?!" Suddenly two female voices sounded somewhat angry as well as relieved, to Aegon’s right.

Without him noticing, both his mother Lyanna and Arya had entered through the side door that connected the different rooms that they had. Now accompanied by Ser Jaremy, apparently they had heard details about his encounter with the _Others_ that at first Aegon intended to leave out the knowledge of both for the sake of their tranquility.

Quickly going to hug his mother and _little sister_ , Aegon reassured them when saw the expression of panic and concern on both of their faces.

“I'm fine, nothing has happened by luck, I'm still alive.” Said as Aegon used his soothing and most loving voice to calm them down.

' _Or so I want to believe.'_ _Aegon_ thought bitterly sometimes about his death and subsequent resurrection.

When the embrace with mother and Arya ended, Aegon stood upright again, and went to sit at the chair on the other side of the maester's. Silence took hold of the room.

“How many _reanimated soldiers_ do they have? How many of the _Others_ are there? Do we know their motivations, where they come from or how to stop them?“Rhaegar broke the silence shooting the rapid succession of questions, while uncle Aemon nodded at Rhaegar's questions.

Aegon’s mother and Arya were sat on his bed, staring at him, concern still etched on their faces. Aegon looked at his _brother_ Bran who was sitting in the middle of the room floor stroking his wolf fur, whom returned a look and gestured that Aegon should be the one to begin the explanation.

“Their numbers are easily over a hundred thousand beings like the one we captured. That we could saw, thirteen of the _Others._ In the army there were also reanimated animals and giants, but fortunately, no sign of the famous spiders of the legend.” answered to his father in a simple and resigned way, causing Rhaegar to seemed to be choking. Aegon’s mother's face of horror seemed to grow, while Arya clung to _Nymeria_ as if that could protect her from anything. Uncle Aemon remained unfazed.

“As for your other questions Rhaegar, our Squire and _Master of Whispers, Prince Branraven_ will inform you of this. _Your Excellence_." Aegon said with a certain mocking tone, but a trembling voice.

Directing a gesture of his arms towards Bran, before leading them towards the basin of cool water that was on top of the dresser, where Aegon had momentarily deposited his band.

“And yes, before anyone asks, I speak of Lord Brynden Rivers. And yes, he _was_ alive, although _not now_ and Bran is his _replacement_. Whatever that means…”after said that, Aegon shrugged, shot a furtive glance at his _valonqar_ Bran and then looked at Rhaegar and then his mother and Arya with a resigned expression that he was telling everything Aegon could or knew, and that it was Bran who could explain more about the matter.

 _'So far Bran, despite being somewhat distant, which could be akin to the journey behind the Wall, has not shown anything of his new self._ _It seems that he took my order seriously._ _Now to see the reaction of the family at seeing this new Bran_.' Aegon thought with anticipation and uncertainty towards what he knew was going to happen now.

As Aegon refreshed his face and hands, Bran brushed his long hair back, revealing for the first time since had returned to the _Wall,_ the absence of his left eye and the tear-shaped blood-colored stain Bran’s had above his left cheekbone.

“Regarding your questions Uncle Rhaegar, I think I can answer them better than Aegon. The _Others_ are a weapon created by the _singers of the earth_ , those we know as _children of the forest_ , in response to the invasion of the first men." Bran said with his magical voice, which at times seemed to come from inside him and not from his seemingly closed mouth.

Rhaegar seemed to notice the change in Bran, beyond the obvious lack of an eye, as put on a certain face of respect and curiosity about the way Bran now expressed himself and conducted himself.

Arya for her part seemed totally amazed by her _new_ brother, looking at Bran with a mixture of wonder and fear.

Aegon’s mother, who was in charge of serving Maester Aemon some lemon water, let out a gasp, accompanied by a slight chill that made Lyanna spill water out of the horn in which was serving.

 _‘Without a doubt, this new Bran has a sometimes unsettling presence.’_ _the Conqueror_ told him from the inside, with a tone that Aegon could only describe as of certain respect and apprehension.

Bran totally unaltered by the looks of surprise, a certain disgust and amazement from the family, proceeded to say his part with that voice that resembled that of _Bloodraven_ during Aegon’s death in the crypts and that raised the hairs on his neck.

“The first _Long Night was_ _not_ defeated _definitively_ , but a kind of technical tie was reached. Thanks to the magic of its creators and the warlike capacity of the _first men_ with some foreign help, the _Others_ could be contained. In exchange for this contention, a pact was signed on the _Island of Faces_ between _singers_ and _first men_ , by which the _winning_ side, so to speak, had to sacrifice members of their own lineage to create a second generation of _Others,_ who would awaken when the _balance of the song of the earth and the Music of the World_ was broken with the purpose of eradicating all life from existence."

Bran paused in his explanation, while his eye seemed to adopt for an instant the reddish glow that it now sometimes seemed to have. After that, the gesture of Aegon’s valonqar relaxed and the eye glowed a vibrant turquoise blue again.

“Regarding how to defeat them definitively, it is something that still eludes me. For now our best option is to prepare to eliminate their entire army and then see how to deal with the magic of the _Others_ _themselves_." concluded his _Valonqar_ Bran, in a tone that seemed to be more for him than for those present and that reflected incomprehension of how it was possible that Bran had no answer to the question asked.

“Although from all I know, everything indicates that Aegon is in charge of restoring the balance of the _Songs_ and the _Music_. How he can do it, I don't know yet, but I trust that in _Essos_ we will find more answers."

Bran finished his presentation, with a voice more typical of what he was, a child, than of what he had become and that Aegon was incapable of fully understand.

After the explanation, or the attempt to do so by Bran, his uncle Aemon cleared his throat and placed his white eyes on Aegon, as did his left hand on the left knee, which Aemon lightly squeezed in a gesture of affection.

"Dear nephew Aegon, I think I need you to update me on your future plans and in this way be of greater use than just knowing only the sketch your father has given me.” said uncle Aemon softly.

“I agree, but before continuing, all those present should know that this impasse in the meeting with the _Watch_ hierarchy was planned in advance by me. I know that I had agreed to share with everyone present here the actions to be carried out and how to execute them, but I wanted that when you first saw the real enemy, it would be at the same time as the men of the _Watch_. Let them see that there was nothing before hand, or trickery on our part." Aegon said addressing his family in a certainly exculpatory tone, but firm and dry. 

"In addition, this was a topic that I wanted to discuss only once, because after this pause, mechanisms and processes will be put into operation that will soon escape our control." Aegon stated, after which he got up from his chair and began to walk towards the center of the room, almost next to Rhaegar, to end up facing his mother, his _little sister_ , his uncle and his _little brother_.

Aegon edged his position, tensing involuntarily, knowing that once he spoke and laid down his plans, there would be no going back. He watched attentive faces on his mother and Arya. Impassivity in Bran, who knew possibly better than Aegon himself what his words would imply. Rhaegar’s at Aegon’s side, reflected some anxiety and like Aegon, was tense. Uncle Aemon had a mixture of expectation and concern etched onto his features.

 _'Now or never'_ thought.

“Due to the events and developments of yesterday, from today we are at _war_. There are really two wars, but in truth it is one and the same. The only way to at least stop this threat beyond the _Wall_ is by unifying _Westeros_ under our banner, but we can only do that at this moment if we can obtain the resources and men from outside the _Seven Kingdoms._ " He announced to his family.

It was something that both Bran, like Rhaegar and his mother Lyanna in part, already knew. But neither Arya nor Uncle Aemon had little more than outlines of the plan based on comments they had heard in passing, or what they needed to know up to that point.

Seeing that he had all the attention of those present, including Rhaegar who affirmed each of his sentences at his side, he decided to continue reeling off the plan.

“When we are in _Essos_ , we will subdue the _Old Daughters of Valyria_ _based on the blood claims house Targaryen has over them. In that way, we’ll_ create a sustainable model capable of producing, supplying and sustaining not only our dependent population, but especially, a professional army that we will create totally dependent to our house. Only when we reach that point, we’ll turn our eyes to what lies between the _Neck and Dorne._ For that reason, today I plan to buy half of the _Wall from the Night's Watch_ , as well as to claim _Brandon's Gift_ _from them_ and give it to _the Free Folk,_ _whom you know_ _as_ _wildlings_ _,_ to inhabit it, manning the _Wall_ in their half, but without crossing to the south of _Brandon’s Gift_ except for emergency from the _Army of the Others_." He concluded to the surprise of Rhaegar and his mother, who were clearly not expecting this sudden change in plans regarding the _Wall_.

“And how do you plan to make that purchase, Aegon? If your father has not misinformed me, until you take control of _the Iron Bank_ , we do not possess gold or wealth.” the venerable master asked Aegon with some doubt in the voice, but warmly.

It made Aegon’s heart glad that the master himself counted himself as part of the family. While he planned to convince him to take up his role as a member of house Targaryen in the new capital of the Wall, Aegon expected to meet resistance from his elderly uncle.

Smiling and with determined but vibrant voice, ignoring the question of the Master, but half answering it, he went on to relate what expected to do about the _Watch_ and the _Wall_

"My aim in the _North_ , especially with the _Night's Watch_ based on their oath, is to try to separate as much as possible the two causes that we are fighting simultaneously. Related to each other, but different in essence; one is the reestablishment of our dynasty and control over practically of two continents. A _selfish and greedy_ cause, you might say. The second is to assume command and the role of leaders in the _Great War, to save humanity._ A selfless, generous and _for the common good_ _cause._ ” 

Aegon said after which waited for some kind of reaction. He could see his uncle Aemon nod his head, but he thought that no one really understood the meaning behind his words and except for his little brother, everyone was looking at him with expectant faces.

“That is why Bran and I have incorporated the members of _the Free Folk_ , or _Wildlings_ _from_ _Beyond the Wall_ as _**citizens**_ from the first province of the **_Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_** _; Tar-nu Fuin, The Forest Beneath The Night_[ ** _[1]_**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47989270?view_adult=true#_ftn1) _”_ Aegon stated next.

The surprised and admiring faces on his mother and sister were a source of pride for Aegon. 

Aegon’s mother, Lyanna, knowledgeable of the plan to establish a _citizenship_ that would tie subjects directly to house Targaryen rather than through lords or nobility, radiated pride in his accomplishments, grinning from ear to ear and her bright gray eyes seeming to be watering.

 _'So this is how Robb felt when Cuntlyn congratulated him for defeating me in the courtyard?’_ thought briefly with pride and joy at the reaction of his mother.

Looking to Arya, his _little sister_ was looking at him with a certain reverence that made him uncomfortable. _'I don't want her to look at me like some of the Wildlings. I am not any kind of God. I'm his big brother.’_

Meanwhile Rhaegar was looking at him as if Aegon had grown a second head. "Sorry? How have you achieved that? Weren't the _city-states_ of Braavos and the surrounding territories supposed to be the first province of the _Freehold?"_ asked Rhaegar in an incredulous voice, but with a questioning point.

After all, the vast majority of the ideas regarding the management of the subjects and nobility in the _new_ _Freehold of Valyria_ had come from Rhaegar. Plans for which they had established a series of steps, where it was essential that the foundational stone of the _new_ _Entity_ that they planned to create and that was going to cover two continents, was Braavos.

Its geographical location, its position as a commercial and exchange hub between _Essos_ and _Westeros,_ its proximity to the _North_ and the presence of the _Faceless Man_ and the _Iron Bank,_ made it the ideal point from which to begin the eastern penetration of their campaign.

However, when he and Rhaegar made the plans in uncle Eddard's solar in _Winterfell_ , it had never occurred to them, that after more than a fortnight of having returned to life, almost one hundred thousand people, the vast majority of the _Wildlings_ from _Beyond the Wall, Giants_ included, would have voluntarily joined their cause in _Westeros._

So Aegon proceeded to explain why the situation had accelerated and the plan had to be adapted by the situations that arose.

"When we returned to the Wall from Bloodraven’s cave and after meeting the _Others_ , we came across the settlement of the _former King-Beyond–the-Wall ..."_ Aegon told his father with a smile from ear to ear, plunging Rhaegar into even greater confusion, although a certain understanding of what was behind Aegon’s words seemed to shine in Rhaegar’s indigo eyes.

"What former _King-Beyond-the-Wall_?" his mother interrupted abruptly with a face of not understanding Aegon’s words "Perhaps there was one and nobody knew it? What happened to him?"

Beside Lyanna, Arya nodded as if she had the same questions and finished off Aegon's mother's skepticism; “There hasn't been a _King_ - _beyond-the-Wall_ since Raymun _Redbeard_ and that was hundreds of years ago Jon! You have to be wrong!." spoke Arya in a tone that took for granted that she was right and Aegon did not know what was saying, much to the amusement of uncle Aemon, who let out a giggle at his little sister's antics.

' _The Fourteen Flames assist whoever crosses the path of my mother or my little sister.'_ _Aegon_ thought with a certain humor, seeing the overwhelming personality of both.

“If you both let me continue, you will soon understand. Taking advantage of the occasion, Bran convinced me to descend and try diplomatic luck." Aegon said, pausing, to continue with his account in an explanatory tone and relaxed voice.

“When we found ourselves in front of all their leaders, in command of all of them, we found a _former_ brother of the _Watch_ named Mance Rayder. Being aware of the true threat, decided to defect one day and rally the clans and peoples from _Beyond the Wall_ in pursuit of saving them from the _Others._ His objective was to gather the largest army that had ever assaulted the _Wall_ , and once taken, use it as a shield against the _Army of Death._ It is seen that the man was successful, because they ended up naming him _King-Beyond-the-Wall._ _” c_ oncluded shrugging his shoulders and extending his hands and arms forward, showing that he did not have more answers on that topic.

"The thing is, after an involuntary display of power from my part..." Aegon lowered his head, ran his right hand through his fledgling hair and sighed, knowing that if he hadn't been so excited about the descent on _Balerion_ , Aegon probably wouldn't have had to having cut a man in the middle. His father looked at him questioningly, but he waved his hand at him, downplaying the importance of what had happened.

“We negotiated an agreement with them; the triangle formed by the _Wall_ and Brandon's Gift from _Eastwatch_ in the east to _Oakenshield_ in the west and the coast adjacent to the _Bay of Seals_ to _Hardhome_ in the north, are the lands of the new province _Tar-nu Fuin,_ whose capital will be the city port of _Forlond, The North Port_[ ** _[2]_**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47989270?view_adult=true#_ftn2) _,_ in what is now _Eastwatch By the Sea."_ Aegon concluded with some pomposity.

 _'Without a doubt I am better than The Conqueror at naming'_ _Egg_ thought with a certain sarcasm and pride within himself for using _primitive Valyrian_ to name the new cities, provinces and protectorates of the _Freehold._

“I have in turn created a kind of nobility and state ranks, bestowing the title of new lord of _Forlond_ and lord protector of _Tar-nu Fuin_ on Mance Rayder. Bran has the complete list of the clan chiefs, _magnars_ and _skin- changers_ that we have considered suitable for the task of political leaders, or that unfortunately, have a lot of ascendancy in their people and you have to accept them as they come.”

Looking towards the silent, but constant presence who lurked in the passage between the rooms of the royal rooms of the _King's Tower_ , Aegon directed a cordial look and in a warm but authoritative tone addressed his only _King’s guard in Westeros "_ Ser Jaremy, come closer.”

The man in question seemed surprised being referred by Aegon, but soon Rikker acceded to the room where Aegon and his family were, to stood in front of him.

“I'm glad you’re here, because the plans affect you too. You will be our military leadership at the _Wall_ and in the _North._ Your authority can only be put in discussion by the maester Aemon, who if he accepts, will become the _civil administrato_ r of the province. Under your responsibility will be the armies and security contingents of the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_ in the _North_ and the _Wall_."

* * *

“ _Your Grace,_ you honor me with this assignment. But what will my functions be?" asked between doubtful and curious Rikker

Looking at him with confidence that was the right man to carry out the task, Aegon nodded and went on to explain what expected of him.

“Your main function will be to shape, train, arm and command the new salaried army that will be created here in the _North and the Wall_. Along with this, you will have to mount defense plans in depth for beyond the _Wall_ and south of this one till to the _New Gift.”_ Aegon paused, shrugged and continued.

“In turn, Ser Jaremy, among the children of over eleven days of the name from the various clan chiefs, you will have to choose a pair of squires for yourself. One of which will be no matter what, Sigorn Thenn. In the same way, you will have to choose more than three hundred from the most prominent clans, for act as a page or squire for each one of the Watch’s commands and for go to _Winterfell_ for the same." Aegon concluded dryly.

He decided to ignore the questioning gaze of his mother and _little sister_ for taking hostages so blatantly, but Aegon was not so naive to think that only goodwill would change thousands of years of traditions. Many of which were based on intolerable violence south of the wall and much less, in the new world he wanted to build.

“Finally, Ser Jaremy, you will be in charge of overseeing how the current _Beyond the Wall_ _army_ will be disbanded, and only those who enlist our new army or who have positions in the administration will have the right to be armed. You and a contingent of the Watch under the command of my Uncle Benjen when he returns, will be in charge of their recruitment, equipping and training personally, although currently we are desperately short of specialized personnel. Which brings me to the next thing already related to our plans in _Essos_.” Aegon explained this last subject already to the whole family.

"As we get gold from the _Iron Bank,_ _we_ will ship from _Essos_ stonemasons, builders, carpenters, armourers, blacksmiths, scribes and healers to teach those who show more promise to perform these tasks among citizens of _Tar-nu Fuin.”_ He went on, specially for both Rikker and uncle Aemon, the plans that he and Bran had established on the fly in the face of the sudden events that had taken place.

“Thanks to the fact that we have the support of _the Free Folk_ , we have skin-changers, giants and mammoths. When Bran took up the mantle of _Bloodraven_ he was able to see his past self, Brandon the Builder, build the wall with their help." Aegon paused to let the information sink in, showing that apart from being possible levies for the new army, among the _wildlings_ from _beyond the Wall_ they had found a tremendous construction workforce that would speed up times.

“Adding to it the help of personnel and materials from _Essos,_ I think it will not take more than nine or twelve moons to erect a new fortress-city where _Eastwatch now stands_ on the _Wall_. In addition, this unexpected help could serve us on the other side of _the Narrow Sea_ in the construction projects that we will start there. No matter how much of a hurry we may be, it is likely that the works on the _Wall_ will be advanced before we even begin the construction of our future capital of the _Freehold_.” Bran added to Aegon's explanation, with his voice from beyond the grave, but strengthening the idea they were putting forward.

Rhaegar seemed convinced by the decisions he had made, while Uncle Aemon continued to pay attention.

“The _Enchanted Forest_ will serve as a source of raw material for the construction of our new north fleet, trade with Braavos where wood is scarce and as a source of fuel for our forges. In _Forlond_ shipyards will be installed and there will be a naval uninterrupted exchange of goods and personnel between _Braavos_ and the new province." Aegon sentenced, in a tone of hope that everything he had planned along with Bran, would soon come true.

“At the same time I am also claiming _Brandon's Gift_ _from_ the _Watch,_ to use it as farmland owned by the _Freehold_ for the _Night’s Watch_ and the new province, attended by citizens in exchange for salary, being this one in coin or kind _. The Wall and Tar-nu Fuin_ cannot depend only on imported grain anymore. At the same time, it will be necessary to create and import large quantities of glass to build glass gardens, although that with our dragons will not be a big problem with the type of sand that exists on the _Essosi_ beaches. _”_ concluded firmly, knowing that there would be no major problems regarding this, as he had seen through the eyes of the _Conqueror_ , what Balerion's fire did in the Dragonstone arena. In the white sands of southern Pentos or Lys, they could get huge amounts of glass and crystal for the North.

“At the boundary between _Brandon's Gift_ and _New Gift_ , a palisade with earth support will be built from _Oakenshield_ to the east, using the wood on this side of the wall, in order to enlarge the arable area. When we _leave_ for _Eastwacht_ and then _Essos_ , we will use _Balerion and Vhagar_ to make a huge trench, where then with the help of the _wargs,_ the giants and the mammoths will go the aforementioned palisade.” Aegon said, although addressing especially to Rikker and his uncle.

Although he had ordered all of this to Mance Rayder, leaving him a large number of scrolls with concise instructions on what to expect of him as political leader of the province, it did not hurt that people in which he had much more confidence, especially uncle Aemon, knew what they were expected to do in the new _Province._

 _'I hope Uncle Benjen is alive and comes back before we leave. I'd like someone from the Watch to know our plans too. If he will not, I will have to resort to Thorne.’ Egg_ thought with a certain fear for his uncle's fate and a certain bitterness at the thought of having to delegate power in Thorne.

He sighed and looked Rhaegar in the eyes, because he would need his help in building the palisade.

“It is a defensive measure, both towards the south and towards the north. Before we leave, the dragons will take care of loosening the land. I don't think Meraxes will follow us, but Vhagar and Balerion produce flames powerful enough to create a ditch on any surface." he confidently told Rhaegar, certain that he would have already created a bond with _Vhagar_ strong enough to carry out what Aegon proposed.

"A bit like the moat on the _Moat, huh?"_ Rhaegar asked.

To which he nodded. "On a smaller scale, but yes."

Of _Moat_ _Cailin,_ uncle Ned and cousin Robb will had to take care. ' _My flying dragons will not have a hand there, although the golden ones will.'_ He sighed, while thinking about the tremendous investment Aegon was going to have to make in having his uncle Eddard Stark fulfill his original role as _Warden_ of the _North_.

 _'All this northern reform project should have been executed a long time ago by your uncle, or your maternal grandfather and you know it. In the end, it is house Targaryen that ends up paying for generations of Stark laziness and accommodation. When we went to Winterfell after the conquest, it impressed as much or more than Dragonstone. Now it looks like a gloomy fortress, decrepit and falling t...'_ and so, the _Dragon Reborn_ severed for the first time in several days his mental connection with _The Conqueror._

Aegon had enough with the current situation, to keep a cool head and in the plans that he has so hard conceived with Bran, his father and the _Conqueror_ himself. For the latter to now come to expel all his resentment and bile towards house Stark, especially against Aegon's maternal uncle and against grandfather.

Having been on the other side of the situation, _Egg_ knew the horrible feeling that came when the carrier of your soul closed you off of his.

 _'That feeling of absolutely nothing…'_ the hairs on his neck stood on end at the memory. But now was not the time to feel sorry for Aegon _the Dragon,_ but to do his duty as Aegon _the Dragon Reborn_. He took a deep breath and continued to present the plan to his audience.

“Each person who lives on the _Wall_ and who does not belong to the _Watch_ , will be census and registered, having _citizenship_ of the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_ , abiding by its justice and laws. Thus, for example, among the _Free Folk_ there will be no more thefts of women, no looting, no murders, or rapes. Justice will cease to be arbitrary and an internal security body will be created, attached to the army. In case crimes are committed, the leaders appointed by me must exercise justice, resorting only to that security body to exercise it. In case they do not do so, or with means other than those established by the new laws that they have in writing from my own hand and that will be those that reign throughout the _Freehold_ , Rikker will do it with them and with the guilty.”

Aegon began to explain the cornerstone on which his reclaims and new possessions would be based, so with a look and a nod of the head, he encouraged his father to continue explaining what awaited them for being able to defeat _The Second Long Night_ and restore the old glory of Valyria.

“If we want to beat the _Others_ , we have to change the world for the better. We need to create a new system. One where the intermediate figure between the ruler and the people he rules is eliminated. One in where the oaths, the army, the taxes, the industries, the commercial and military navy, the commerce itself, the laws and the justice are in subordination to our own house Targaryen, towards and from the subjects to this one.“

Explained with passion Rhaegar, with his iron, but melodious and harmonic voice, like no other Aegon have ever heard.

“And the only way to do it would be to make all subjects equal before the law and justice, regardless of birth, gender, religious belief, wealth or social status. A system where social advancement depended on being _Citizens of the Freehold_ and their own personal abilities, not on the name or blood they carry." Aegon finished off simply.

By _Gods_ fortune, Rhaegar was an inexhaustible source of political and historical knowledge and seemed to have thought all his life about how to change the current political model.

Using as a sketch from the proposals of Uncle Aemon's brother, Aegon V _The Improbable_ , mixed with the form of government among the Forty Valyrian families before the _Doom_ and the maintenance of certain structures based on vassalage and oaths, Rhaegar had given with the way to create a double state.

In this new state, house Targaryen would perpetually hold administrative, military and executive power, forming the backbone of the _Freehold._ Its beginning and its end, since every citizen was contractually bound for life, like his children and the children of his children, with the _Freehold_ , as well with house Targaryen. The which, in the _Freehold,_ would be a _State_ in itself within the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_.

They only really give part of their power to make laws, which in last stance had to be approved by them for their application, and in regional politics. In this way they created the illusion of autonomy and self-government among the political leaderships of the provinces, the lords, nobility and powerful, when they really had the power that house Targaryen wanted to grant them. Besides that way they could complete the destiny of the _Conqueror_ and his own with the same plan.

“To achieve that equality, that _Isonomia_ , everyone should be the same. And that's being _Citizens of the Freehold of Valyria,_ _e_ veryone without exception, having the same rights, freedoms and obligations. _Homogenization_ in this way is total. Regretfully is obvious that due to wealth, historical situation or family position, we are talking about a model that will not be perfect, nor can it be implemented in all the territories under our sphere of influence or direct power, in the same way." Rhaegar said with some helplessness and sadness in his voice.

“ _Citizen_ of the _Freehold of Valyria_ will be any man or woman endowed with speech, owner of land, with the capacity for dialogue, decision and debate, capable of reaching a consensus with their peers and who has previously signed the contract and established the oath of eternal loyalty and fidelity to house Targaryen and to the _Freehold_. These will have the right to political participation in regional assemblies and depending on its census capacity, in the provincial or protectorate/province councils. In the same way, they may participate in the different administrative bodies according to their census level."

Aegon added to what Rhaegar explained trying to separate to this one from what he knew Rhaegar regretted they wouldn't fully achieve.

 _‘Rhaegar sometimes seems to not understand the difference between rebellion, conquest and revolution._ _I applaud him and even admire his vision for a better world._ _But I need to have all the power firmly grasped in my hand if we want to win over Death_.' Aegon mused to himself.

Whether they wanted to or not, taxation over the citizenship and their ability to collect large amounts of gold were their best asset in gaining the support of _the Iron Bank,_ and to finance the many expensive ventures ahead.

“Land ownership can only be achieved in two ways: by granting of house Targaryen in exchange for citizenship and what that implies, or by purchasing it in exchange for an oath of eternal loyalty to house Targaryen as Lords of the Freehold of Valyria and the Seven Kingdoms, along with financial compensation in the taxes.”

Rhaegar explained in a slow and explanatory way, gesturing from time to time with his head in the direction of his mother and towards Arya. At times, it felt like Rhaegar was really explaining for the two of them, more than to Rikker, uncle Aemon, or Bran.

Aegon was infinitely glad to see that his mother and Arya, along with Rhaegar, had hit it off so well. Otherwise he was not able to understand Arya paying attention for so long following to explanations about politics and territorial management.

 _'It certainly seems that the two of them are serious about being raised as a crown prince and that my father has taken it personally that they receive such knowledge'_ thought, causing a brief smile to spread across his face. 

While Rhaegar continued to explain looking towards Arya and Aegon’s mother "Only those who have land ownership may participate in the assemblies, whose function will be to transfer the problems of their regions to the administrative magistrate and the political leader who acts on our behalf in the province or protectorate."

“Each regional assembly will be held every eight or twelve moons and will elect a representative to defend the interests of their region in the provincial or protectorate council. For this council, up to ten elected members may be elected from among the citizens of each province or protectorate, three always from the lowest census stratum and two must always be the political leader and the magistrate of our administration." Rhaegar explained in his melodious and warm voice, using manners and gestures that reminded him of those of Maester Luwin explaining to him and Robb all the great houses of _Westeros_ , except that in this instance was the political model that, for example, from that time on, reign among the _Free Folk._

 _'Only in this case, instead of regions, they would be clans.'_ thought as Aegon carefully followed Rhaegar’s explanation.

"In turn, these ten members of the provincial or the protectorate council, will represent this one in the _Council of the Freehold of Valyria and Westeros._ In the lands owned by the old nobility where we can find a political commitment, such as the _North,_ we have created _federated_ territories associated to the _Freehold_. We will not intervene directly in their politics, nor will be there assemblies, since _citizenship does not really_ come into force in these territories." Rhaegar explained the reason for the impotence regarding why his ideal model could not be implanted equally.

“However, we will have control over everything else. These territories will also contribute ten representatives to the _Council of the Freehold of Valyria and The Seven Kingdoms_ , of which three must not be part of the nobility and must have been chosen from among the other servants of the nobility.” Aegon intervened with a vehement voice, trying to show the positive side of the change to introduce.

"Where we do not reach agreements with the ruling lords, or directly, where we appropriate land through military action, we will create our true system" promised, almost asserting, Aegon with a cold and hard voice.

Although he would have liked to remove the entire middle step between his house and _citizenship_ , he knew that in some kingdoms and provinces he would have to make concessions. The solution was that these provinces or kingdoms were associated with the _Freehold_ as provinces or kingdoms federated to it, allowing to maintain in a certain way, the _status quo_ in them, but at the same time allowed the implementation of the administrative and military apparatus of the _Freehold_ in those territories. _'In a word: Control'_

“The Council of the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros will_ be held every eight and ten or twenty and four moons, and will be our link with the different provinces, protectorates and federated territories. Through the _Great Council_ they will expose us the desires, aspirations and needs of each of our domains. Of these provincial, federated or protectorate representatives, a third should be part of the lowest census stratum.” Aegon continued with the explanation, pausing to drink a little from his horn where he had a horn with water and lemon.

“Every _citizen_ will be able to access politics, although their weight in it will really be conditioned by their economic capacity and their dependence on our house. We will create an illusion. The illusion that there is an elective method as there is among the _Ironborn_ or right here at the _Wall_ with the election for _Lord Commander_ , but really the whole system is tied to our family. Without us, the system would collapse and not because of the absence or presence of dragons. We will become the beginning and end of the system." He promised his family, and in a way himself.

Inside him, when Aegon made plans, he had always had a dichotomy. On the one hand, he wanted to make a better world and give better lives to the almost sixty million people who would be affected by his plan. On the other hand, Aegon knew that he would need to be firmly in control of everything in order to face _The Others._

At exposing the plan, he remembered the lessons that the _Conqueror_ gave him during their years together in the past, seeing that now he was in the same situation; balancing on the thin line that separated tyrannical power from a more benevolent and open one. And unfortunately, as Bran had warned him several times already, sometimes Aegon would have to cross that line.

Honor and conciliation should be set aside if the occasion calls for it. However, with the plan basically devised between him and his father, with small contributions from his uncle Eddard and Bran, Aegon believed that a certain balance could be reached, which would ultimately prevent the appearance in the future of a new _Unworthy_ or _Mad King._

 _'Or maybe I'm delusional, since really the system that we will create will not have counterweights to the power of house Targaryen’_ thought with a certain bitterness to himself. Aegon decided to continue with the exposition of the plans, instead of continuing to ruminate on a future that, if he did not defeat _the Others_ , would not take place.

“To finish the issue of _citizenship_ of the _Freehold,_ every citizen will have the right to free marriage and this will be defended by the _Freehold_ itself _._ Situations like that of mother and Robert's whoremonger, or that of so many women throughout history are over. Only with the approval of both parties, can a valid marriage be contracted _.”_ Aegon said with more anger than he intended, practically spitting out the _Usurper's_ name _._

Almost without breathing, he continued. “The family name may be expressly created or associated with their lineages if they descend from one of them, but it will not result in benefits of social status within the _citizenship_ of the _Freehold._ If you are a citizen, it doesn't matter if you are a bastard, because the laws and rights are the same for everyone. If the mother is a _citizen_ , the son will automatically be a _citizen."_

Having lived as a bastard for five and ten days of the name, he did not want to create a system that would allow the suffering of children due to the conditions of their birth.

After discussing these two topics, Rhaegar noticed how these last points had agitated him and decided to ease a little the tension that had suddenly fallen on the room, continuing with details of the plan.

"What is there in common between all the daughters of _Valyria and Old Ghis_?" Asked Rhaegar in the direction of Arya.

"Slaves!!" Arya quickly exclaimed with a face of pride and satisfaction with herself.

“Thus, it is. Millions of slaves. But not only common slaves, in many cases, these are specialized labor and workers." Rhaegar expanded the correct assertion of Aegon’s little sister.

"Why not give them freedom and make them part of our _state_ in exchange of a _salary, political voice and property, all provided by house Targaryen?"_ Aegon rhetorically asked his mother, sister, and uncle.

 _"_ Why not instead of being _Conquerors,_ we are _Liberators and Builders of a_ better world than the shit that exists today?" Aegon concluded fully convinced that he could do better than almost three hundred years ago. He had to do it if he was to defeat the _Others_ and that his children and his children's children, as well as all his family and offspring, could live forever without fear, and in their rightful position as the only bearers from the old blood of the forty that they were.

“That is how father and myself came up with the idea of recreating the old _Freehold_ , but without slavery or serfdom. Thus was born the idea of the sort of _Freehold_ of _Valyria and Westeros_ , which from today begins to be a reality.” Aegon intoned melodically and with emotion.

Observing at those present, Aegon saw that uncle Aemon had a smile from ear to ear and a face of pride and satisfaction towards Rhaegar and him.

Aegon’s mother, Lyanna, seemed to be processing everything she already knew in advance, with the new information she had just received. For her part, Arya seemed not to understand everything, but she still had a big smile on her face and a look of pride and infinite love towards him.

' _I think I will have to explain the details to her, but I hope she will soon understand what we intend to create. My intention is for her to held power. If she doesn't understand our goal, it will be difficult for her to do so.'_

“In this way we will be able to build the infrastructures, goods, weapons, fleets, among others things. We will monopolize the trade in manufactures and craft as well as all productive resources, over which we will also have ownership and control." Said Rhaegar looking directly in the direction of Arya, who is seen had also noticed her confusion

"We will extract or produce materials, we will transform them, and we will sell or supply them, depending on the case." Rhaegar finished with a smile and a gesture of the head as if to say that the explanation he had just given should serve Arya to finish putting all the pieces together

“The _Freehold_ , which really will be house Targaryen, will buy or acquire all the means of production and commercialization, exchanging serfdom and slavery for the salary of labor, the existence of private property linked to house Targaryen, the political voice and internal promotion. " Aegon tried to contribute.

"With the entire _Freehold_ oriented and focused in the same direction, as citizens of it, the more prosperous the _Freehold is_ , the greater they will become, gaining even greater devotion to House Targaryen." His uncle Aemon suddenly asserted, who seemed to have perfectly understood what was behind all the administrative, bureaucratic and fiscal structure that they had planned to create and instrumentalize.

Although Aemon didn't see it, Aegon’s father smiled and nodded. "That's right Uncle. On the other hand, salary will also affect the sinecures, intermediate positions, bureaucratic positions, the productive mass, services, manufacturing, merchants and the army."

 _“_ It is because of all this that the _Free Folk_ didn’t bend the knee nor bow to me. I gave them the choice between continuing to live beyond the wall, fighting for safety; or becoming part of the _Freehold of Valyria_ , explaining what that meant. They have freely decided to take the _citizenship_ of the _Freehold_ and all that entails, including the double oath of allegiance and eternal fidelity to the Targaryen house represented in me..."Aegon informed the family about the conditions under which joined _the_ _Free Folk_ to the Freehold.

"Are you sure that someone who doesn't bend the knee can be trusted, Egg?" his mother asked with some concern in her tone. Before he could reply, his _Valonqar_ intervened

"Although they have not bended the knee, the oath of the blood _of the first men_ is sacred even _beyond the wall_." Added Bran with his magical voice and mysterious presence, without whom possibly negotiations with the _wildlings beyond the Wall,_ would have been much more arduous or would not have taken place.

 _"_ The importance of _the Iron Bank_ in the whole plan is that it will not only be our source of credit, but it will also become the _Bank of the Freehold"_ continued Aegon finishing exposing the plans, since they should soon meet again with the blacks brothers, and part of what remained to be exposed, would be mentioned in the conversations.

“That's why we're going to need someone to help Maester Aemon carry out the _Census_. We will soon send someone from the _Bank_ to _Forlond_ to carry out the tax task and _repair_ payments _to the Night's Watch and the North_. Something akin of a return in material riches, for the blood that they had cost the people of the north and the _Watch_ for so many years. "

"What better than the ones whom has been negotiating with gold all their lifes so they begins to be the one to mint it, collect it and put it into circulation in our name and our territory?" said Rhaegar at exposing what had possibly been the most brilliant idea Rhaegar’s had had regarding the control and finances of the _Freehold._

"However, it is steel, not gold, who will grant us our position from which to defeat _The Others."_ _Aegon_ added with a firm and determined voice, knowing full well that without soldiers, none of his plans would be viable.

In this case, it was him, rather than from Rhaegar, who most of the ideas came from. As when the _Dragon_ carried out the conquest, Aegon was aware that fifteen hundred well-trained men fully dedicated to the cause were worth more than twenty and five thousands peasants, nobles, knights and lords gathered _ad-hoc_ on the fly.

 _'In the Field of Fire there were more than forty and five thousand men and it was of absolutely no use for them'_ Aegon thought, knowing firsthand that an army well prepared in that battle would have been a tougher nut to crack.

“That is why we will create a permanent army. But it will be an army that will combine the best of the legions of Old _Ghis_ the power and strength of a _Westerosi_ knight and the adaptability and preparation of a mercenary. An army trained for all kinds of conditions, capable of crossing great distances in a relatively short time. An army that is capable of fighting both in individual armies, as grouped in formations that include several, without any loss of performance. In short: an army tailored to us.” Aegon explained clearly and calmly. He paused to take another drink from the horn, and continued.

“Anyone who enlists in our army will do so for fifteen years, in exchange of a salary per year of service and an allotment of land at the end of the enlistment. They will also have the option of promotion according to their capacity, performance and military value. Each promotion will be accompanied by a salary increase." said, after which he passed his hand over his head, took a deep breath and continued. 

“We urgently need blacksmiths, armourers and military instructors. Rikker, by recruiting from _the Tar-nu Fuin Protectorate_ between 7,000 and 14,000 men and women in their physical prime, committed and well-trained, we would have the base for two armies of 5,000 soldiers and almost a third .” explained Aegon, mostly addressing his _King’s guard._

“As long as it is an army only, this will be your command, Ser Jaremy. When there is personnel for two, or if necessary, my uncle _Lord Stark's_ army joins in, you will delegate control of our armies to enlisted members of the _Freehold_ army or _citizens_ with positions in the administration or political leadership. When this happens, you will be in charge of coordinating the two or three armies. If they are ours, Uncle Aemon will be the only one able to challenge your decisions. If it is with my uncle Eddard's, then you will have to come to terms with him. Although in that case, remember that our army cannot be sacrificed by anyone. Neither he, nor anyone other than Maester Aemon or a member of the Targaryen family, will be able to compel you to take actions that are to our detriment."

At the conclusion of the orders to Rikker, Aegon saw how his sister Arya tensed and gave a look of some sadness, because although not specifically, he had made it clear that his army was not at the service of the Stark family unless direct order of the Targaryen family. _'She still forgets that she is part of the dynasty and that if she wants to, when the time comes she can give Ser Jaremy direct orders.’_

Bran for his part did not flinch, because according to him all this was really a waste of time. His once sweet _Valonqar,_ had _told_ him shortly after fleeing _the Others,_ that he should fly with the three dragons over each palace, castle or fortress of the Westeros and Essos high nobility, and reduce them to ashes. Give a choice between oaths of allegiance to them or death, the massive conscription of serfs, slaves, servants and free people, to crowd them all to the Wall in a battle of attrition against the army of the _Others._

‘ _Once you solved the_ _problem_ _of the North Wall_ _, you_ _might think of political whims._ ’ the once tender, dreamy and lively Bran had told him.

Fortunately, once his suggestion was discarded, his little brother proved to be the biggest supporter of his plans.

 _'Without him, I would possibly be dead. Without him, I would never have come to terms with the Free Folk. Without him, I would never have heard from Rhaenys, my grandmother, my uncles and aunts. I hate what Bloodraven's cave has done to him, but by the Gods that is it proving to be helpful._ '

Aegon had clear that it would be a pleasure for him to knight his _little brother_ in four years. He would be the youngest knight in history, and based on his merits, he should already be.

“Our armies must never have more than 10,000 men, nor less than 4,500. Although the ideal would be 7,500. They will be under the command of a member of the family _or a King’s guard_. Outside of those two cases, a legate in the function for us, with the rank of _Lord Commander of Army_ and a corresponding salary. If he is not a top class of the census, lord or has another source of regular income. Or if they have a position within the _Freehold_ institutions or administration, they will not receive salary for their service.” Rhaegar added, addressing uncle Aemon and Rikker in particular, although giving his mother a furtive glance.

 _'Maybe my mother dreams of commanding an army…I don't know…We don't really even know each other yet. After achieving the goals that I have set for myself in Braavos, I will have to really talk to her.’_ _Aegon_ thought with some regret, realizing that except for the conversation on the first night leaving the crater that had formerly been the _First Keep_ and a couple of loose talks before going to sleep or during the brief breaks in the endless planning sessions at his uncle's solar in Winterfell, they had hardly discussed anything other than _Senya’s_ ritual, the reinstatement of the dynasty, the _Rebellion,_ or the threat from _Beyond the Wall._

The melodious and steely voice of his father took him out of his thoughts “The intention is that they be mixed armies; heavy infantry, light infantry, archers, spearmen and if possible in some cases, add detachments of between 500 and 1000 heavy knights and a screen force of about 300 light cavalry horsemen. Army groups will always be commanded by a member of the royal family or a member of the _King’s guard_ , no one else."

"For now we have five commanders and no soldiers to command." Aegon muttered with a certain laconism under his breath, making a reference that no one except Bran, understood from the faces that his relatives made. This was because, counting him, there were really only three military commanders really in the room; Rikker; Rhaegar and him.

Aegon knew that his little brother Bran and his _uncle_ in _Essos_ were serious candidates for military glory in command of armies. And after the exchange between Rhaegar and his mother, Aegon did not rule out that when the day came, his mother or one of his sisters, and even his grandmother, would decide and show themselves apt to take command of one.

Without giving the option for anyone to give much thought to his involuntary comment, Aegon continued where Rhaegar had left off:

“We intend to have a minimum of 60,000 and a maximum of about 85,000 infantrymen in total, that is, between eight and twelve armies, supplemented by between 10,000 and 25,000 knights. The both together, would form 40 mixed detachments of 2,500 men and horses, or 58 mixed detachments of 1,750. Every detachment will be a third of an army. Three detachments would be an army.”

“In the same way, each army will be accompanied by detachments of military builders and supporting infantry, which would mean between 10,000 and 20,000 additional men. In total, our maximum forces will be of 130,000 enlisted men and women, minimum of 100,000. At the time of the _Great War_ , at most 70% of our armies will be fighting in it." Rhaegar concluded with some concern, for the surprise of Aegon’s mother and little sister.

Rhaegar had told Aegon that there would come a time when the problem would not be to have a large standing army, but to keep it supplied. Therefore they had to make estimates of how much is the maximum that could be moved in the logistics trains.

“Taking into account the logistics and the existing means at our disposal, an army group of more than 70,000 men is unfeasible from a provisioning point of view. With a estimate consummate of forty tons of campaign supplies per week, that means twenty and five tons of grain, ten of meat, plus another five of weapons and equipment.” explained Rhaegar the why, apart for to maintain a skeleton security force in the domains, in their _final_ campaign they would not use all his men available, in case they had them.

Like his father, when fighting with _The Others_ _Aegon_ would like to have as many valid men as possible, but he knew there was no point in doing so if they lacked supplies.

“For that very reason we need a powerful combat fleet and a huge shipping and trade navy. Hence the importance of Braavos, and not only because _of the Iron Bank_. We need a shipyard and a fleet of our own ownership right away. In the same way, we will have to contact houses Velaryon and Celtigar when we are established in Essos, to whom my name can still mean something.” Rhaegar concluded the explanation and presentation of all the plans.

“Only through conscription in our army for fifteen years, it will be possible to be armed. Since they are common among the _free folk_ , and by having the sisters and mother that I have, I would be hypocritical, the recruitment will not take into account between genders, allowing both women and men to enlist." Aegon added as he winked at his mother and sister.

A knock on the door that connected to the _King’s solar_ was the signal that the _black brothers_ had already returned and the stays had been cleaned by the stewards.

So Aegon decided that it was best not to keep them waiting.

"It is time to expose all pertinent plans of the _North_ and the _Wall_ to the _Night's Watch_ and to pray to all the _gods_ that they are not too stubborn and obstinate with the old traditions and customs." Aegon said with a warm voice, and more optimism than he really felt.

* * *

When Aegon’s mother, Arya, and Rhaegar had already left their sleeping quarters, Bran stayed a moment longer, looking at the maester as if he was waiting for something. It was in that moment that uncle Aemon asked his _little brothe_ r something, which Aegon certainly did not expect, but which Bran seemed to know before hand by his expression.

"Is it then time for me to give him the chest?" in sing-song voice, hopeful and eager, uncle Aemon.

 _'Curious. We talk about the possible end of the world and my uncle is excited to give me a chest ... of course the Second Long Night is coming.'_ _Aegon thought amused._

“Yes maester. You must give Aegon the chest that you have been guarding since Lord Brynden went to meet his destiny." Bran answered with an ear-to-ear smile at Maester Aemon and with a voice certainly like a child, after what he go in the direction of the stays where the postponed meeting would be resumed.

When only Aegon and his uncle Aemon remained in Aegon’s dorm rooms, Aemon seemed to want to talk to him some more, before putting the plans in motion in front of the _black brothers_. As Aegon walked towards him to help him up, his uncle made a gesture with his hand stopping him.

“Aegon before we leave these rooms, look under your bed. Possibly, the solution to your possible problems regarding the purchase of half of the Wall would be in there. It must be a rectangular wood chest approximately half a meter long by two spans high."

Aegon walked over to the bed where his sister and mother had been sitting until a minute ago. When he reached it, crouched down, resting his left hand on the bed and his right arm on the floor.

To Aegon’s surprise it seemed that the floor was impeccable, and as his uncle the maester had just told him, there was an oak chest, elongated but not too high, which had undoubtedly been placed during his absence from the _Wall_. Picking up the black handle in the center of its side, he could barely move it.

_By seven hells!! What's in here that I can hardly even drag it away?'_

Hearing his hard breathing of effort as he dragged the chest off the bed, Maester Aemon chuckled.

"Will we have to call your _little sister_ to help you?" his uncle said jokingly.

" _Ugh ... Ugh ... Ugh ..._ No need ... it’s already out." Aegon said breathlessly. The weight of the chest was undoubtedly excessive. And he was very tired after barely getting a couple of naps in the last five days.

"Open it" uncle Aemon told him with emotion and expectation, as handed Aegon a key that was on a necklace around the maester’s neck.

The chest was simple. It had no decoration. But it was solid, firm and it had a lock that didn't look like it would be easily breached.

By turning the key in the lock and opening the lid, he understood why.

Horizontally, four solid gold bars that would be worth more than two million gold dragons covered the entire floor of the chest. On them was beautifully folded, a battle banner of his house, on which rested six seals of House Targaryen and their respective gold pendants collars; three for men, three for women.

Next to the seals, were ten identification gold rings with the sigil of House Targaryen engraved in rubies.

 _'Damn Bloodraven knew a hundred years ago what was going to happen. And also the exact number of seals and rings_ _I’ll need. This is crazy.'_ Aegon thought between indignant and astonished at the discovery. Taking the largest ring, he placed it on the middle finger of his right hand and the signet put it around his neck.

When Aegon recovered from his surprise, closed the chest again, previously grabbing one of the remaining nine rings, and went over to uncle Aemon to help him up from the chair.

"Did you knew the content of what was in here?" he asked to the old maester.

“I had no idea. I only know that the day Lord Brynden left and entrusted him to me, he told me that when the day came, its contents would aid the plans to restore our lost glory. From your reaction first of surprise and then of secrecy, I would say that it is so. I don't need to know anything else about _your chest._ It is yours for do what you want with it and its contents.” said his old uncle with a dry and cold voice, with some resentment towards _Bloodraven._

 _‘Maybe if Lord Brynden had deigned to explain the things a little better, this whole situation would not have come to pass.’ The Dragon_ commented suddenly _,_ to whom Aegon had inadvertently allowed to enter his consciousness and soul again.

"Here uncle, this is for you." He said, ignoring the comment of _the_ _Conqueror_ , after which he proceeded to set the ring on the ring bony finger of his uncle's right hand.

Uncle Aemon felt the ring with his left hand, and as he did so, a smile came out of his mouth, while his expressions were totally relaxed.

In a high-pitched voice and certainly moved, the maester said to Aegon "When my brother Egg lived his adventures with Ser Duncan the Tall, he had one very similar to this one hidden in his boot. Thanks so much nephew for give to this old man a new opportunity in his life to do the duty to our house.”

As Aemon clung to Aegon’s left arm, where the old maester rested part of his weight, Aemon’s face suddenly changed to a more serious and tense one, addressing Aegon in a reflective voice that resonated with the wisdom Aemon had accumulated with more than hundred names of the day.

“You have a debt with the world, Aegon. You could have ended injustices, but you chose to create a system that favored the opposite of that... How many lives has been lost and ruined because you believed that you had the right to rule this continent since the dream that had your sister? Was it for love? Was it for duty? Was because you believe yourself some kind of savior? Or was merely because you had the option of gain more power with the moral right in your side because of the dream? Don't answer me. Answer this to yourself. This time, your burden will be heavier and little joy will find, I think. But is an occasion for doing right from the olds wrongs" Maester Aemon said as his cloudy, milk-white eyes moved to Aegon's face.

"If a possible _Second Long Night_ had not affected your life, what would you have done?...I may be your descendant, but I am also your eldest and I have lived more than a hundred days of the name…Listen to me, you that started this _Game of Thrones_ that crushes the weak and rewards the powerful. You have to save them from themselves, in order to save them from the _Long Night. That is truly your duty.”_ uncle Aemon sentenced, but made a gesture with his hand to indicate that he had not finished with what intended to say.

“I do not think that for a shepherd there can be nothing more dangerous and humiliating than giving his dogs guardians of the livestock, a breeding and education in which indiscipline, hunger or any bad vice can induce them to attack the herds themselves, and look like rather than dogs, _they’re wolfs.”_ Aemon commented, as stopped on the way to the stays where his family and the _Watch_ _already_ _were_ waiting _._

 _"_ It would be terrible." Aegon agreed. "How could it not be?" He answered his venerable uncle's question with another question.

Seeing that Aegon’s strategy was to nod without really paying attention, uncle grabbed him with a force that surprised Aegon in a man that age, turning his body until they were both face to face.

Despite the difference in height, Aegon suddenly felt like a small child. Aemon was watching him with clenched jaw, white eyes fixed on his. For a moment, Aegon could have sworn he saw flashes of two black wells of ink in them. Like his father's or his own.

"Won't you then have to be vigilant so that the auxiliaries do not do the same to us with the citizens and, abusing their power, resemble savage tyrants more than friendly allies?" his uncle questioned him with severity and harshness in his voice.

"Yes, we will have to watch" Aegon replied, realizing the implications of his uncle Aemon's reflections.

"And wouldn't we have the best guarantee in this regard if we knew they were really educated?" this time Aemon’s tone was softer and sweeter. It seemed like he wanted to take the conversation to some point, so Aegon didn't beat around the bush.

"Sure, but how do you propose to do it?" Aegon said dryly, though without the seriousness and coldness he intended.

“Making knowledge, like property or political voice, accessible to all citizens of the _Freehold_. Let me create a new _Citadel_. But one that teaches and illustrates everyone equally, not one that imposes its version of what it thinks it knows. Swear the boy Samwell Tarly as magistrate of House Targaryen and the _Freehold_. Dispossess him from all titles attached to Tarly and make him a new person. Make him a citizen of the new world." The pleading in his elderly uncle's tone was something Aegon hadn't expected.

And much less that he spoke of dispossessing a person of all his noble titles in exchange for making him a citizen of the Freehold, as if it were a reward to this Samwell Tarly.

At Aegon's silence, his uncle Aemon tightened his bony hand on his left arm “Young Tarly has all the inclinations and virtues that one could ask for in a Grand Master, without any of the vices or prejudices acquired by them. With the books in the library of this castle, plus what your Uncle Eddard would be able to contribute, we could possibly have enough material to start the project. On the ships coming from Essos with materials, provisions and people, it would not cost anything to put a couple of chests full of books and scrolls. Freed scribes who are not essential for bureaucratic or institutional functions could find a future in the new citadel and could be the beacon for generations to come." Aemon concluded with a voice of hope.

Aegon felt as if the old maester was looking for a way to redeem himself with his house and with the world. As if for the first time in his life, he was proposing something he wanted to do and not something he should do.

He felt compelled to grant his old uncle's wish. Even if the project did not go beyond that, nothing would lose and could gain a lot. Not to mention that he would gladden the heart of his centenarian Uncle Aemon.

"It's all right Uncle. Once we finish the meeting with the Night’s Watch brothers you will introduce me to Tarly and I will decide what to do with him. Although as you have put it, your project without Tarly would be impossible, right?" Aegon said with some authority on the first and some resignation and humor on the second.

“That's right Aegon. So is, so is." answered his uncle Aemon with a voice that was warm and happy as if he had gotten away with it, but that filled Aegon's chest with warmth and love for his uncle.

_'At least I am able to make him happy at the end of his days. Now to buy the wall and start the designed plans.'_

* * *

**Twelfth day of the seventh moon of 297 AC. Braavos, Essos.**

The roar of the _Titan_ _that_ announced the sunset, reverberated in the humid heights of the sky above the lagoon where the _bastard daughter of Valyria,_ _Braavos,_ was nestled.

After almost two moons since the ritual, Aegon had finally reached _Essos._ The continent from where his family really came _._

 _'The North will always be part of me, but I am the last of Valyria' The Dragon Reborn_ thought proudly for himself, smiling to himself as he remembered how three hundred years ago _The Conqueror_ told him something similar about him.

Developing and implementing his plans at the _Wall_ _took_ more time than Aegon would have liked. But it did at least help him to see Uncle Benjen again before leaving the continent and update him on events and happenings that had taken place since when they said goodbye at the entrance to the cave that once belonged to _Bloodraven._

Even if Aegon did not want to admit it, he felt more secure knowing that at least within _the Night's Watch there_ would be someone who would take care to put peace between the _Free Folk_ and _The Black Brothers_ in case discord arose once he had left with the dragons.

Crossing the _Narrow Sea_ had been a tougher process than Aegon had first imagined, believing it would be like when he went from Dragonstone to Tyrosh. Instead of a half-day flight, he found himself facing a three-day nonstop flight from _Forlond_.

And even though Aegon was the one who was most used to flying on a dragon, three days in armor, surcoat, shoulder pads, vambraces, greaves, knee pads and _Blackfyre_ on his back, caused his muscles to be numb and cramped. Not to mention that Ghost, getting bigger by the day, had been hooked around his waist for three days using his cloak as a sling. He couldn't wait to get back on solid ground.

Looking to his right, Aegon could see how _Vhagar_ could be mistaken for the sky due to the range of colors cast by the evening sun. On top of the yellowish-orange dragon, with his black armor and silver mane blowing in the wind, his father Rhaegar, with his mother Lyanna in front of him.

' _I don't want to imagine how my father must be, after having carried mother on his lap the whole flight. At least Bran and Arya found a way not to burn themselves on top of Balerion by wearing three pairs of breeches under the riding leather breeches.'_ He thought as Aegon looked towards his back, where on the back of the _Black Dread_ were his little sister, his _valonqar_ and their two _Direwolf_ pups in their arms, both in state of nervousness and agitation.

 _'Without a doubt, even if they do not express it, they have as much desire as we do to step on solid ground.' the Conqueror_ told him inwardly, whom had been his constant company during the flight, since Arya and Bran had dedicated themselves to dozing the great majority of the flight.

After five weeks of meetings, plans, discussions and the occasional little veiled threat, Aegon had no desire to argue or think on plans and fortunately _The Dragon_ agreed with him, always maintaining a light conversation, remembering the times in that they both fought in _Essos_ , or how Rhaenys would have loved to do a flight like the one they were doing.

Seeing the sun reflected off the silver scales of _Meraxes_ flying alone to his left was a constant reminder of the other great reason he wanted to get to _Braavos_ at once. Rhaenys.

Thanks to Bran, he knew that Aegon’s grandmother, uncle, and sister were in _Braavos_ and had somehow survived the chaos that ensued after the fall of their dynasty in _Westeros._

Aegon did not know very well how, because Bran had told him that it was not his place tell the lives of others, although had sworn that was telling the truth and that Aegon would soon see it.

 _'At this point you should trust your valonqar a little more, Egg.'_ said _The Conqueror,_ when for the umpteenth time since Bran assumed the mantle of Lord Brynden, Aegon reiterated if it was true what he had said after the encounter with the _Others_ or was it simply a ploy to prevent Aegon from going to death fighting the _Ice Spawns_ and their _puppets_.

He took a deep breath and let out a sigh he didn't know for how long had been holding.

By being on Braavos, any possible incognito that they had until that moment would disappear completely. It was one thing for someone in _Westeros to_ tell of the sudden appearance of dragons in the _North,_ typically accused of being a kingdom prone to myth and storytelling. Another very different thing is to carry out the deployment that they were going to do in _Braavos,_ whose population was tens of thousands of people. Fairly larger than _Lannisport._

Although, if the _Usurper_ or Tywin wanted to come after him, it would be a favor they did him.

It was time to leave behind the low profile that they could had have with three huge dragons.

"Bran!! Prepare the _banners,_ the world will once again know that House Targaryen is alive and back to take what its own!" Aegon said almost shouting and with an edge of emotion so that his brother could hear him well from where he was.

Thanks to _Bloodraven_ _they_ had both the war banner of house Targaryen, as well as that of Lord Brynden himself, that Bran had taken as his own. _'It's time to use them again_. _'_

The rocky knoll of dark gray stone that rose in the lagoon began to be seen from the heights, showing above it a windowless building with a black tile roof and enormous doors almost four meters high. One was black, the other white. They had finally reached their first stop today, _The House of Black and White_ , the headquarters of the _Faceless Man._

 _"[Balerion, it's time to announce us to the world]"_ _Aegon_ practically whispered to his dragon, which emitted a murmur that echoed through his body and that was of joy at being able to show his power.

Balerion then let out a roar that might as well have been heard on the _Wall_ , joined by _Meraxes and Vhagar._

 _'There is no turning back Egg. The complicated part really begins now.' The Conqueror_ told him in a serious and firm tone, which showed the seriousness of the situation. _'If things don't go well now, we will possibly be dead before nightfall'_ he internally reaffirmed to the _Dragon._

If there was any bet to all or nothing in his plans, it was the one he was going to make now with the _Faceless Men._ He did not intend to end them, if not to unite them to his cause, or at least a part of them. Although his pulse would certainly not tremble in eradicating them from the face of the world, Aegon had suspicions that before he could do that completely, he would be the one who would leave the mortal world.

They began to slowly descend in circles around the building, causing a mass of people to gather around the rocky ridge. When they landed on the rocky knoll where the residence of the _Faceless Men_ was founded _,_ a slim woman, robed, half black, half white, welcomed them.

"We are here to see the Kindly man" Bran told her, doing his job as squire. The woman gave the dragons and _Direwolfs_ a wary look and then looked at them for a long moment and nodded. Then she indicated for them to follow her.

They entered an interior courtyard, which had a three-meter-wide pool filled with black water in the middle. At the edge of the pool sat a man dressed in a tunic similar to that of the skinny woman, his face covered with a hood.

Aegon took a step forward: "I am Aegon Targaryen" he said with a firm and dry voice. He then pointed out his family that was a few steps behind him "these are Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Targaryen, my parents. The youngsters are my brother and sister, Brandon and Arya Stark."

The priest got up and walked towards them.

"We are here to buy the organization of the _Faceless Men_ and their inclusion as security members of the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros._ " Aegon explained simply the reason for their presence there.

"The _Faceless Men aren’t_ _for sold, we_ belong to the _God of Many Faces_." said the assassin in a surprisingly kind voice.

"Then we will buy it from him," Aegon nodded at his valonqar, who took out one of the gold bars that once were on _Bloodraven's_ chest and offered it to the _Kindly man_.

"You can buy a small town with this" Bran said shyly.

 _'What is Bran playing at, why is he using that voice?’ The Conqueror_ asked internally the same question that was haunting Aegon. _’Let’s trust in him.’_

The _Kindly man_ pulled down his hood, and instead of a human face, only had a yellow skull with remnants of skin hanging down and a worm in the eye socket.

None of them were fazed at all. Bran had already warned them in advance of the possible tricks and illusions the _Faceless Men_ could use. In fact after seeing a wight and Bran on a daily basis, his _little sister_ Arya was practically laughing at the worm in the _Kindly man_ eye socket, as she tapped Bran on the shoulder in a friendly way.

"Our _God_ does not care about riches." said the _Kindly_ with some bewilderment, after a few moments of silence. Most likely, the man expected some kind of reaction to his revelation. Aegon wanted to laugh, after the things he had seen, lived and experienced…

Arya stepped forward, her eyes shooting daggers in the assassin's direction.

"We came here to take down the _Faceless Men_ and we will!" Said Arya fiercely "We are Targaryen and Stark, the blood of dragons and wolves runs through our veins, we don't care about your gods or your magic tricks." Aegon’s _little sister_ pointed to the _Kindly man_ face.

"If you do not accept riches, then we will show you the meaning of the words of our houses, and winter will come with fire and blood. We will raze this temple to the ground, and all that will remain of your precious _God_ will be a pile of rubble." Arya threatened the _assassin_ with her still childish voice, but quite firm.

Aegon, like his father, couldn't hide the surprise on his face when he looked at Arya, while his mother Lyanna was wearing an ear-to-ear smile, exuding pride in her niece.

The _Kindly man_ also seemed a bit taken aback by Arya's unexpected speech, but recovered quickly enough. "Do you think you are the first to threaten us, girl?" practically spat.

Aegon’s look of surprise, like his father's, was now replaced by barely contained anger. His mother had drawn _Visenya's_ dagger and the three pups began to show their teeth in the direction of the _Kindly man_ and the girl beside him. In his chest, Aegon felt how _Balerion_ _was_ also _stirring_ at the threat.

"We have been here for hundreds of years, kingdoms and armies tried to confront us and they all ended in the same way. As offerings to the _God of Many Faces_." said the K _indly man_ with venom, all kindness disappeared from his voice. "Perhaps you will also receive _The Gift!_ insolent girl. So he will teach you to disrespect our God in his house!"

He didn't need to look at his father to know what would happen next. Aegon’s right hand was on the priest's neck in an instant, easily lifting him so high that his feet were no longer touching the ground and was struggling for breath. The _Kindly man_ skull face, now became the face of an old man.

The skinny temple girl tried to pull a knife out of her robe, Rhaegar quickly tugging at his long sword, ready to strike her. But his mother Lyanna was quicker and stood between the woman and Aegon himself with the dagger in hand, ready to defend her son.

However, none of this was needed. The _Direwolfs_ defeated his parents. Aegon saw only three flashes moving with blinding speed in front of him and the next thing he knew was that _Summer_ was on the young woman's chest and her neck was in _Ghost_ and _Nymeria's_ mouth, breaking like an egg under the pressure of the strong jaws of the wolves. The girl body went limp in an instant.

"Don't ever threaten my family again." Aegon’s words sounded more like a roar than spoken words.

The _Kindly man_ was now struggling to breathe. "Do you think your God can protect you?" Aegon asked in a voice thick with rage. "Do you want to see a God?" He spat practically, at the same time that he threw the assassin to the ground, where this one began to cough, trying to fill his lungs with air.

"I will show you a _God_!" Aegon practically roared again and was immediately in contact with _Balerion ‘[My friend, destroy this place, but be careful with my family and the wolves.]'_

Suddenly a heartbreaking roar was heard from above. The people who had gathered outside the temple began to shout and pray to their gods. The thud of the _Black Dread_ was heard violently landing on the building, tearing it with its hind-legs and tail. _‘Soon there would not be much left of the building.’_

 _Vhagar_ _let out_ another deafening roar, albeit softer, and joined _Balerion_ in the destruction that was causing. The interior walls of the building collapsed from the weight of both dragons.

To Aegon's horror, human faces stored in the building began to spread among the rocks, and throughout the inner courtyard.

The _real_ assassin’s face now took on the yellow color of the skull with which he tried to scare them earlier, the limbs were shaking so much that could not get up from the ground.

" _Valar Morghulis_." Aegon said now in a harsh, threatening voice to the _Kindly man_. Although he would have liked to avoid using the dragons, the position the _Faceless Man_ had taken left Aegon with no choice. "Now if you allow me to explain myself without making any threat from either side," Aegon concluded, directing a reproving glance at Arya.

“ _Valar Dohaeris Dragonlord_. What do the last of Valyria need from the _God of Many Faces?"_ answered the old man from the ground, recovering as he could.

“I come to warn you that someone is making fun of your _god_. I come to warn you that if you do not join us, there will be no life left on the planet and false gods will take the place of yours ” Aegon explained ominously and with aplomb.

"And who are those who, according to you, mock and supplant our _god_? I don't see why we should stand against the end of existence if our _god_ has so decided. Only he can grant the _gift_ of death, just as he did with Valyria." replied the _Faceless Man_ condescendingly.

“Because the enemy of whom we speak does not allow those they kill reach the _Gift_. On the contrary, once they had taken the light from their lives, they revives them and enslaves them as their diabolical puppets, wights that are a mocking to your god, with the intention of becoming omnipotent gods who add up the whole world in darkness." Bran began to speak, now with his magical voice, full of wisdom and that seemed to come from the bowels of the earth.

"I know that you had a hand in the _Doom_ , although by far not all the responsibility and it was more of a coincidence." His valonqar concluded by fixing his eye, which seemed to take on reddish tints similar to those of the mark under the socket of his left eye, on the man lying on the ground.

“And I know that your main function is to avoid the suffering of those defenseless, whom will be better off with the _gift_ than continuing their lives. You say that your only owner is the _God of Many Faces,_ yet you have strayed and allowed yourself to be corrupted by gold. In exchange for a payment, you _give_ the _gift_ to people who have not won it. Tell me, kin-slayer, do you think that the false gods of death will let you live and will not make you their slaves? Do you think your tricks and illusions will prevent _the Others from_ annihilating you?"

If the faceless man trembled at _Balerion and Vhagar's_ display of power, the words, the magical air and the tone used by Bran, caused the assassin to involuntarily loosen his bladder on the ground where was still lying.

“I can recognize you whatever the face you wear, just like our dragons and our _Direwolfs._ I know there are eleven of you in all and I know you have at least ten more acolytes." Bran said, speaking confidently and rhythmically, but threateningly. 

“Choose. Serve the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros,_ helping your _God_ in his true struggle, bestowing the _gift_ to those who are judged to receive them by the _Red God_. Earning wealth for doing your mission. Or perish. Decide now." Aegon concluded his brother's threat with a hard, cold voice, to add as looked up at his dragon that was perched above the crumbling walls, fixing its fiery eyes on the terrified assassin. “The next time I address to my dragon, it will be to burn the remaining rubble of this building to ashes. You can choose whether to be part of them or not."

* * *

When they finally finalized the details with the _Kindly Man_ , as the _Faceless Man_ in charge of coordinating the organization called himself, they were ready to go to their next stop: the _Iron Bank_ , undoubtedly a more arduous negotiation, but deep down now less dangerous.

As all climbed back onto the dragons, Aegon looked from his mount on _Balerion_ at his father _,_ _whom returned the look._

As they looked between each other, they both nodded and headed towards their two dragons, still leaning against the collapsed walls and roof of the building. It was time to put an end to _The House of Black and White_ once and for all _._

"Dracarys"

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47989270?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) From Quenya or High Elvish. Throughout the fiction, especially to name places, I will use Tolkien's wonderful language as a primitive dialect of High Valyrian (High Valyrian would be the Sindar of the elves who did not see the two trees)

[[2]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/47989270?view_adult=true#_ftnref2) From Quenya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All inspiration for the administrative policy structure of the Freehold comes from the reforms of Solon and Cleisthenes in Athens, the Athenian civic structure, the reflections of Plato (Republic Book IV), Polybius (On Rome), Aristotle (The Forms of Government ), Saint Augustine (The City of God), The city-states of Northern Italy in the late Middle Age, the elective method of the night watch / Ironborn and the structures of the Lower Republic / High Roman Empire and certain touches of Roosevelt's New Deal (The monopolization and direction of production and its means).  
> This chapter is along with Eddard II's the longest in fiction.  
> I can understand that it is not the most attractive chapter due to the lack of "action", but for my history and the construction of the "Free" Freehold, I need the Targaryen conquest / establishment/ blood claims to have a historically viable base and above all I wanted to end the vassal society based on oaths to the domains.  
> Although it is high fantasy, I cannot write something that I know is unfeasible at the political-structural level of medieval age. Daenerys's big problem in ADWD and surely in AWoW is and will be, her pathetic management / rule of the conquered territories. One cannot decapitate economic structures, productive and social aspects of a society / culture and move forward hoping that it idyllically governs itself.  
> It is understandable that Dany in the books, 14 -17 years old and with no preparation, makes such shit. But in this case we are talking about a figure by which time itself bends before him, Aejon (Before the conquest / After the conquest) who has the help of, according to all that is known about him in canon, one of the most brilliant people in Westerosi history, like Rhaegar Targaryen, his father  
> Aemon will appear more and will continue to spread wisdom (in this chapter he's Socrates LOL)
> 
> This chapter along with Rhaegar II's part on the Iron Bank are the exposition of the Targaryen plan between now and the Long Night, so bear with me with some patience.Then there will be much less exposure of this  
> \----- Important Note, regarding future battles  
> , THERE WILL BE NO UNSULLIED, DOTHRAKIS, OR COMPANIES OF MERCENARIES, THERE WILL BE AN ARMY IN THE ROMAN WAY / SPANISH TERCIOS !!!
> 
> \---- Explanatory note regarding the political ordering of the Free  
> IN THE FREEHOLD THERE WILL BE NO VASALS, THERE WILL BE CITIZENS !! THERE WILL BE NO GREAT LORDS, IF NOT PROTECTORS AND MAGISTRATES OF THE ADMINISTRATION IN ALL PROVINCES-PROTECTORATES!! THIS POLICY AND STRUCTURE ONLY APPLIES TO TERRITORIES CONQUERED / CREATED BY THE FREEHOLD !!
> 
> Thus, Eddard Stark and the North, is a kingdom federated to the Freehold. It maintains its social structure (there's vassalage), but not the economic or productive one and they are allied via contracts and oaths to the Freehold, personified in Aegon and the Targaryen family. Tar-nu Fuin is a Province-Protectorate of the Freehold, as will all the old daughters of Valyria. The inhabitants of the provinces / kingdoms defined as protectorates are Citizens of the Freehold (There is no vassalage. All productive activity is paid by salary in monetary value or in kind) The population of the protectorates, the citizens, are those who are linked by a contract with the Freehold, not with the lords / regional / provincial administrators  
> PS: THE 3rd image is an image of what will be the new capital of the Freehold. It will be on the Rhoyne and close to the dragon roads. NY SAR.
> 
> P.D2: I base the military numbers on the population tables taken from https://asoiaf.westeros.org/index.php?/topic/115756-population-estimates-of-the-7k-and-essos/  
> An army of more than 15,000 people it was too large to be controlled in medieval battles, not to mention the logistical burden involved.  
> The army of the First Crusade that takes Jerusalem, is properly a combination of different armies that did not add up to more than 23,000 men and there were "a thousand different armies" in one (with its own command ... but all proven military) against one of over 70,000, mostly forced hands  
> Until Friederich the Great first (on whom I also rely a bit for the Freehold army), although really until the Battle of Sedan, almost a century and a half after this one, armies of more than 20,000 people under a single command was impractical. Communication and orders were given by signals of flags and the rhythm of the marching drums.  
> There is no greater nightmare for a military man than being unable to command his men on the battlefield.  
> Numerical superiority never, never, never guarantees victory (unless you are the USSR or China xD)  
> The Muslim invasion of the Iberian Peninsula began with a light army of less than 7,000 men  
> Next one; Jaime I


	15. Jaime I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more day in exile for a "Lannister"

** Twelfth day of the seventh moon of 297 AC. Braavos, Essos. **

_"This was justice. Make a habit of it, Lannister, and one day men might call you Goldenhand after all. Goldenhand the_ Just." _Jaime III, AFFC_

__

* * *

" _[Come on Acturum.]"_ the fat _Sealord_ said in his nasal voice in the bastard valyrian talked in _Braavos,_ as the plank of the barge carrying them made contact with the berth in the narrow channel. Through said jetty, access was gained to the intricate street maze by which the retinue would reach the great square of _Braavos._ The place where the _Iron Bank_ building stands _._

Despite the fact that he had been using _Aucturum_ as his pseudonym for almost fifteen years, sometimes he still looked around to see if such an _Aucturum_ appeared from behind. Yet Jaime always ended up falling that he was being addressed by the false name he had given himself in honor of _Ser_ Arthur Dayne.

 _Aucturum of Tyrosh_ he called himself to justify his dark green mane, which he used to cover his true identity. Even if Jaime was left for dead after the _Sack_ , he preferred that no one saw his recognizable golden hair.

Adjusting to the surroundings, Jaime nodded to the _Sealord_ and, watching for danger, queued up the retinue of scribes and customs collectors accompanying the leader of the free city _._

Although it was not the best of jobs, it was certainly not the worst he had encountered in his forced self-exile in _Essos_ that had already lasted for fifteen years, which had been a continuous coming and going. Working as a mercenary, escorting merchants, and even at first, Jaime worked unloading cargo from ships at the docks of _Lys_. Always on the run, always living precariously and watching out for Robert's would-be murderers.

However, since they had settled in _Braavos_ almost three years ago _,_ both Rhaella and his uncle Gerion, as well Davos, convinced Jaime that Robert would never search for the dead, and that his gaze was fixed on the surviving children of the dowager queen of _Westeros_ , Rhaella Targaryen. Or _Jenny of Lys_ , as the current regent and owner of the _The Green Eel_ inn in the _Happy Port_ of _Braavos,_ was known in those days _._

In this inn Jaime lived when he was not at the service of the _Sealord_ , with the improvised family that Jaime had unintentionally formed after the final events of the _Usurper's Rebellion._

At first it was just him and Rhaenys, but after going through the worst storm in _Westeros_ history and reaching by fortune _Dragonstone, they_ added Rhaella to the group. Miraculously rescuing her from being cremated by the Fortress _Master,_ who had left Rhaella for dead following the birth of Daenerys _Stormborn._

After a period of recovery by the Targaryen matriarch, they headed for _Essos,_ where on one of his many trips he ended up meeting his uncle Gerion, _The Smiling Lion,_ in _Volantis._ Uncle Gerion, as soon as saw Jaime and found out who he was in company, swore his sword to the queen and princess, accompanying them from that day forward.

However, if not for Davos, none of that would have been possible, nor would they ever have made it this far.

 _'The Seven bless him and his wife Marya. I don't know what would have become of me and the princess if we hadn't crossed paths with him near Dunksdale in the moons following the Sack of King’s Landing.'_ Jaime thanked all the _gods_ inwardly every time he remembered those terrifying days.

Without Davos, Jaime and Rhaenys would never have reached _Dragonstone_ in the middle of the storm, undetected by either the _Velaryon_ fleet or the _Redwyne_ ’s. Without the care and attention of Marya in Davos's little cottage at _Cape Wrath,_ possibly both the queen and the princess would be dead. Furthermore, Davos' three sons, Allard, Dale and Mathos have ended up being almost cousins to Rhaenys. That, apart for being sworn swords to her and the dowager queen, trained by Jaime himself.

If Jaime was now following in the footsteps of the _Sea Lord's_ entourage, it was because he was the _Third Sword_ of _Braavos_ , responsible for the security of Ferrego Antaryon, the current _Sealord_ of _Braavos._ The mission that Qarro Volentin, the _First Sword,_ had commanded Jaime was to escort Antaryon to _the Iron Bank_ , with the objective of conducting the monthly negotiation between the political lord of the _bastard daughter of Valyria_ and the _Keyholders_ of _the Iron Bank_. The true owners of _Braavos._

Between them and the _braavosis_ magistrates, the _Sealord was_ elected _._ They were the power in the shadows, not only in _Braavos,_ but in all of _Essos._ Despite being a city founded on anti-slavery, the _Iron Bank_ earned huge amounts of gold and profit thanks to the existence of slavery in the rest of the continent. They had control over the _Faceless Men_ and a large part of the Mercenary Companies from Essos _,_ something Jaime well learned from working temporarily for some of them.

The sticky summer heat of _Braavos_ caused Jaime to be permanently bathed in sweat. Despite growing up in _Casterly Rock_ and spending his teens in King’s Landing and the surrounding area, after fifteen years in exile from _Essos_ , the heat of the eastern continent was still something he hadn't gotten used to.

All that pilgrimage across the essosi continent, all those hardships, dangers and new life, giving up his real name and surname were due to something that began sixteen years ago and supposedly ended fifteen years ago, but that for him continued to be present as if was reliving it every day; the _Rebellion of Robert_ and last days of the reign of _His Grace Aerys II, The Mad King._

* * *

**282 AC Kings Landing, The Crownlands, Westeros.**

The day had been windy when he said goodbye to the _Prince of Dragonstone_ Rhaegar Targaryen, in the courtyard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon gathered in rubies on his breastplate. " _Your grace,_ " Jaime pleaded, "let Darry stay to protect the king this time, or Ser Barristan. His cloaks are as white as mine."

Prince Rhaegar shook his head. "My royal father fears yours more than our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch from him at this hour."

Jaime's anger had risen in his throat. "I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the King’s guard."

"Then take care of the king" Ser Jonothor Darry snapped with some disgust. "When you put on that cloak, you promised to obey."

As Jaime was about to rebut Darry, Rhaegar put his hand on Jaime’s right shoulder. "When this battle is over, I want to call a council. Changes will be made. I intended to do so a long time ago, but ... well, there is no use talking about paths not taken. We will talk when I return ..." Rhaegar paused.

When Jaime felt those two black eyes, with purple sparks, fixed on his emerald eyes, he could not help but swallow hard and wait for the _prince_ to tell him what he wanted. Something that Jaime knew would be his burden for the rest of his life.

"Take care of my daughter Ser Jaime. Take care of Rhaenys. If everything goes wrong, protect her with your life and reunite her with my mother. Keep my family safe." Rhaegar Targaryen ordered, almost pleading with his metallic but melodious voice.

Those were the last words Rhaegar Targaryen spoke to him. Outside of _King's Landing_ an army had gathered, while another descended upon the Trident, where the two would eventually collide. Then the _Prince of Dragonstone_ climbed into his massive jet-black destrier, donned his tall black helm, and set out for his fate.

During the return and subsequent departure of Prince Rhaegar, the prince persuaded his father, _the Mad King,_ to swallow his pride and summon Jaime’s father.

But no raven returned from _Casterly Rock_ , and that made the king even more afraid of everything. Aerys saw traitors everywhere, and Varys was always there to point out anyone who might have been lost. Then _His Grace_ ordered the alchemists to place mud vessels under all of _King's Landing_. Under the _Great Sept of Baelor_ and the huts of _Flea Bottom_ under stables and warehouses, in the seven gates, even in the cellars of the _Red Keep_ and in some rooms of _Maegor's Holdfast_. Vessels stuffed with _Wildfire_ , the _Mad King's_ favorite toy. Capable of turning half a million people and potential raiding armies into a ball of green glow in an instant.

Jaime’s sworn brothers were all far away, but Aerys liked to keep him close. He was his father's son, so Aerys didn't trust in him. He wanted me where Varys could look at him, day and night. So Jaime could hear it and see it all.

He still remembered how Rossart's eyes sparkled when unrolled the maps to show where the _substance_ should be placed. The _Wisdoms_ Garigus and Belis wore the same maniac glee.

Rhaegar met Robert on the Trident and when the news reached the court, Aerys sent the pregnant queen to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. The Princess of Dorne Elia Martell would have gone too, but Aerys forbade it alluding Dorne’s treachery. Somehow it had occurred to him that Prince Lewyn must have betrayed Rhaegar at the Trident, but Aerys figured could keep Dorne loyal as long as he kept Elia, Rhaenys, and the _supposed Aegon_ by his side.

Aerys kept delivering the same tirade over and over again to anyone who approached the _Iron Throne_. “The traitors want my city,” Jaime heard Aerys say to Rossart, Aerys’ voice that oscillated between a barely audible thread and a wild and angry tone, with high-pitched screeches “but I will give them nothing but ashes. Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat. The Targaryen never bury their dead, they burn them." The _Mad King_ exclaimed and screamed sharply. This one pretended to have the largest funeral pyre of all.

' _Although, truth be told, I don't think he really expected to die. Like Aerion Brightfire before him, Aerys thought that fire would transform him...that he would resurrect, be reborn as a dragon and turn all his enemies to ashes.'_ Jaime was still thinking fifteen years later, when he remembered those days out of a nightmare.

Then came the day of judgment. Eddard Stark was running south with Robert's vanguard, but Jaime’s father's forces reached the city first. Pycelle convinced the king that his _Warden of the West_ had come to defend him, so Aerys opened the gates.

The only time the bloody madman should have listened to Varys, and he ignored him. Jaime’s father who had refrained from entering the war, reflecting on all the rudeness Aerys had done to him, determined that House Lannister should be on the winning side. The Trident decided him to act.

If Jaime closed his eyes, he could still see the massive black ebony doors with the Targaryen sigil carved into them, which gave access to the room where the monstrous throne of blades forged by the dark fire of Balerion is located. A great hall, long enough to house thousands of lords, but narrow. _Casterly Rock's_ innards were wider than the Throne room at the _Red Keep_ , in Jaime’s opinion.

The path to the _Iron Throne_ felt like the _walk of regret_ as Jaime paraded through the cavernous Hall. Aerys was still there. Scruffy and crazy. Rossart was talking to one of Aerys's lackeys in the small council that was leaving through a side door. When Jaime took his position at the base of the sword monster that served as the throne, Aerys, the second of his name began to address him.

"Did you hear boy? Your father has shown his true colors, just like Rhaegar." After which Aerys began to laugh frantically as stared at him with his injected eyes up and down, something that made Jaime shiver.

It was the look of a madman. Even the Targaryen purple had faded, leaving in its place a dilated iris, in whitish lilac.

"If I sent you to kill your father, would you do it?" The _Mad King_ smiled at him in such a way that it caused tremors in his body; yellow teeth gleamed. Jaime tried to answer but was cut off.

"Maybe yes, maybe not. I don't think you have it in you. Although maybe you do. I had your mother seven times, such a pious number, before she married Tywin, maybe you are my bastard?" Aerys inquired to himself, in a shrill and convulsed voice, Jaime felt his anger rise in those moments, but kept his head down, letting the _Mad King_ continue his rumination.

"That would make sense, maybe I'll have your sister when this is all done. She is pretty enough and has always wanted a dragon in her bed. I don't think there was a father-daughter marriage in the Targaryen bloodline." Aerys laughed again. Jaime looked up then, feeling his face swell with anger.

"NO! Don't give me that look, cub. That's the Tywin demon in you." Aerys tried to say forcefully, but came out weak, scared.

 _'Was Aerys always this pathetic?'_ Jaime thought when saw the _Mad King_ on the cusp of his madness and paranoia.

"Bah. It doesn't matter. Ser Jaime. I say you're my son, you look like Joanna, not Tywin." Aerys said suddenly in a soft and warm voice, totally opposite to the one he had been using up to that moment. Madness it seemed to make Aerys’ emotions fluctuate with the speed of a blink, going from panic to euphoria or joy, and from there to anger.

"It shows how strong my seed is and how weak Tywin's is. The only spawn he will have will be a monstrous dwarf." Aerys finished talking to him, laughing. After that Aerys looked at Rossart.

“Burn them all, Rossart; Burn them all. The lions, wolves, falcons and trouts. Only the dragons will remain. Burn them all.” Aerys maniacally concluded.

Jaime felt terrified; he knew what that meant. He had led the men of the seven-time-cursed Rossart to the locations indicated by Aerys to destroy _Kings Landing_ , now mostly under _Rebel_ control. It was not a normal fire that Aerys was going to use to burn them, no.

Rossart bowed to Aerys and started walking with an evil smile plastered on the face. It was then that Jaime finally felt the weight of his sword in his hand. He knew what he had to do and damn his vows and oaths.

As fast as his shaking legs allowed him, he got in the way of the _Hand of the King_ "Ser Jaime, what is the meaning of this, hmm-" Jaime finished with the damn sycophant piercing his belly from side to side with his sword.

The _wisdom_ Rossart gasped in pain and fell to his knees, intestines spilled on the floor.

Jaime then turned to Aerys, heading towards the _throne_ from where the _Mad King_ was watching unfold the scene with feverish eyes. Aerys was terrified, his frenzied gaze unable to settle on anything, groaning as struggled up the steps of the throne, cutting himself on the hands and arms as he tried to crawl back.

An intelligent man would descend from the monstrosity of the throne and run. But Aerys was crazy. As Jaime ascended the first steps of _the Iron Throne,_ Aerys tried to stand upright, shouting "STOP! I command you! I am your KING! I am your ..." Jaime jumped up two steps, and unloaded his golden sword on the back of the bloody lunatic.

Jaime felt his blade cut through the skin of the _Mad King's_ back and inside like a hot knife in butter. When he drew the sword, Aerys fell forward down the long iron steps. Each fall was accompanied by a soft, sick, morbid sound of spatter of blood and flesh falling on the steps of the swords that made up the _Iron Throne._

Then Aerys continued to fall down the steps, until was on the platform on which the throne properly stands. Only when Aerys stopped rolling and his face continued to look at him, did Jaime decide to descend the steps of _the Iron Throne_ and _finish_ the work.

When he pierced Aeys's throat and his eyes stopped blinking, blood gushing from his open mouth, Jaime sighed in relief. His tired legs finally gave up holding him, and he sank down on a step.

Jaime examined _his work_ , and in that moment he couldn't help but think of Prince Rhaegar's words before setting off to his death. It was like as if he was hearing them again.

Due to this, Jaime gathered the forces that after the adrenaline rush he had left, and went as fast as he could towards the rooms where Jaime supposed Rhaenys Targaryen was, praying to all the gods to his arrive before his father's men.

Jaime knew that when the princess had nightmares or was scared, she used to go to her father's room so that he would calm her down. Therefore, he decided to go to the prince's rooms in _Maegor's Holdfast,_ sealing in turn the fate of Elia and the _supposed_ Aegon who were upstairs in the nursery.

As he approached, Jaime began to hear screams and the smell of smoke assaulted his nose. A man stood guard at the entrance to the prince's rooms, in front of the lifeless body of the she-dwarf who acted as Aerys's buffoon. Jaime whirled around as he drew his sword, and headed for the guard who wore a Lannister livery over a rusty chainmail.

"Lorch…!" the aforementioned gasped, as Jaime pierced the chest before the man could even draw his sword.

It was at that moment that black smoke filled Jaime’s senses. The door to the prince's chambers was open, but the smoke in the hallway and the smoke coming from Rhaegar's chambers prevented him from seeing what was going on inside.

As Jaime groped into the rooms and gazed at the scene before him, his stomach turned and his heart nearly stopped.

A burly man with a manticore on the shield and parchment ornaments etched into his steel breastplate leaned over the prince's bed, while much of the room was in flames. Through the open visor of the helmet, a pale piggy face peered out.

"Come damn Dornish bitch, I will teach you." Rhaenys attacker shouted with a loud and thin voice. Meanwhile, the princess kicked, moaned, and tried to evade the attacker, trying to hide under the bed.

As the girl resisted, the damned dragged her out of bed and threw her against the wall, where tongues of fire began to spread on the curtains and the canopy of the bed.

Rhaenys seemed to have lost consciousness, if not dead. However, the bloody knight, still unaware of Jaime’s presence at the door, drew a dagger from his waist and went to stab the still body of the princess.

Without thinking it twice, in four long strides Jaime got within sword distance of the knight with the manticore and cut off his head with a powerful down arc from above his right shoulder.

The body of the princess's attacker fell heavily on the poor girl, staining her in the process, whose hair was starting to catch fire. Jaime realized that the flames had risen to caress the ceiling, so he began to frantically search for the jug of water that Prince Rhaegar kept at all times in his rooms. Thank the gods it was packed. Jaime threw its contents at Rhaenys to quench the flames that threatened to spread past her hair and garments.

Ignoring the fire that was beginning to feed on the furniture in the room, Jaime headed towards the princess.

He pushed the corpse from the headless knight away, while using it to extinguish some of the flames that were dangerously close to Rhaenys, if not covering her. Jaime was able to drag the girl to the center of the rooms, away from the fire that spread through three of the four walls. When checking her condition, she noticed that the princess seemed to breath, although she was unconscious and in shock, possibly with a broken bone. Her body temperature seemed that of a forge. Jaime didn't know what he could do now for the princess.

If Jaime’s father had sent these two men to kill the princess, surely more would be on the way and Jaime was tired, exhausted, and all the adrenaline had drained from him. Knowing that despite saving the daughter, he had failed poor Elia and Rhaegar's _supposed_ heir, was in turn a burden he would have to bear for the rest of his days. However, Jaime had no time for regrets at the moment.

The room began to go up in flames. He had to think fast what to do. Jaime knew that if he stayed in _Westeros_ , the princess would die and he would forever be labeled as the _king-slayer,_ a man without honor. Worst of all, is that the biggest beneficiary of all would be his father, and this would surely force Jaime to be the heir again. If Jaime chose to choose to save the princess, he knew that his life would be one of exile and deprived of any luxury. But he owed it to Prince Rhaegar.

‘ _It's what Arthur would do.’_ thought at the time. In addition, the pregnant queen, Viserys, Princess Lyanna and her three king’s guards, as well as her future son or daughter, were still alive. The dynasty had been defeated, but it had not been exterminated.

Jaime quickly made up his mind. First he dropped his golden sword to the ground, after which stripped himself of his armor, surcoat, and his white cloak at that time broken, frayed and burned in some places. He was dressed only in beige hose, leather boots, and a now threadbare shirt that he wore under the surcoat of his armor. His only weapon was a dagger that was hooked on the laces of his hose.

Seeing that the princess was momentarily safe, or as safe as she could be in the situation, Jaime went to the door of the rooms where the corpse of the Lannister soldier and that of the she-dwarf were. Using the forces he had left to drag both bodies, Jaime placed them on top of his armor, sword and cloak.

Taking with his left arm, while supporting the unconscious princess on that same shoulder, Jaime went to the fireplace, where he knew there was an access that connected with the labyrinth of tunnels and passageways built under strict orders from Visenya Targaryen and Maegor _the Cruel_. And he was one of the few people who knew of its existence.

Behind the false wall, a _Wildfire_ container was ready to explode in a chain with the others scattered throughout the capital of the _Seven Kingdoms._ Knowing that if this explode in the prince's rooms, it would not have a chain effect with the others, nor would it leave a trace of anything except armor and swords in the best of cases, when it crossed the false wall of the chimney, Jaime left the _wildfire_ container on the side of the stays.

Fleeing with Rhaenys in his arms, Jaime realized that Rossart's blood, that of the _Mad King_ , that of the manticore knight and that of the other man was impregnated by his hands, his long hair and his face.

For hours he groped his way through twisting corridors, narrow access spaces, hidden doors, secret steps, and shafts that plunged into utter darkness. Rarely had Jaime felt so tired. A man takes a lot for granted when he has two hands, but in his case, in his left arm Jaime always held the unconscious body of the princess.

He came to a room lit by the sullen orange glow of embers in the mouth of an iron dragon. The brazier heated a chamber at the bottom of a shaft where there were half a dozen tunnels that led to different parts of the city and outside of it. The same tunnels that were used in his day during the _Dance_ for the plot of Rhaenyra, he needed to use now to flee as soon as possible.

On the tile floor he had found a striped mosaic of House Targaryen's three-headed dragon done in tiles of black and red. ' _I know you_ , _Protector of the Princess.'_ the beast seemed to be saying.

' _I've been here all the time, waiting for you to come to me_.' And it seemed to Jaime that he knew that voice, the iron tones that had belonged to Rhaegar Targaryen, _Prince of Dragonstone_. In that moment Jaime knew he was doing the right thing.

As he lost himself several times in the dark tunnels, he could hear the muffled noises of the battle, or rather, the massacre that must be taking place in _King's Landing_ and the _Red Keep._

He continued to wander through the corridors and tunnels, where his eyes were unable to adjust to the darkness. As Jaime’s right hand moved in front of his face, he felt the air move, but saw nothing. His fingers brushed against the rough unfinished stone to his right. He followed the wall, his hand skimming the surface, taking small gliding steps through the darkness, as he carried Rhaenys on his left arm.

 _‘All corridors lead somewhere_. _Where there is an entrance, there must be an exit._ ' Jaime tried to think calmly at that time.

Fear sometimes cut deeper than swords. He didn't know if it had been minutes or hours, but it looked like he had walked a long way when the wall abruptly ended and a draft of cold air passed over his cheek. The hairs that weren't matted with sweat and blood against his face, fluttered slightly against his skin. The moment came that he tripped over a rock and fell against the wall, and his right hand found raw earth supported by timbers, whereas before the tunnel had been lined with stone.

He found the wall again and followed it, blind and lost, his muscles beginning to feel fatigued from the strain of fighting his father's men and time carrying Rhaenys. Eventually, moving through knee-deep, foul-smelling water, Jaime resurfaced in the night air.

The darkness of the night was broken by the glow of the fires coming from the city. _'Fortunately, no reflection is green. The Wildfire is intact.’_ thought, internally relieved. When Jaime observed his surroundings, he could realize that he was standing at the mouth of a drain that emptied into the river.

When looked at Rhaenys in the glow of the Sack’s fires and the moonlight, he could see that she was covered in blood, with half a burned hair and burned brows, but no skin burns. And seemingly, she has finally come to her senses, but showed signs of being shocked.

Rhaenys’ totally purple eyes, almost dark, seemed to be looking at more than a thousand meters. _'The look of a survivor of a thousand terrors'_ Jaime thought immediately, remembering the survivors of the worst battles against the _Brotherhood of the Kingswood._

"Princess, you’re okay?" He tried to communicate with her in the warmest, most familiar voice he could, but Rhaenys seemed absent from everything that was going on around her.

“Rhaenys, you are safe. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. I'm here to protect you.”Jaime said to the princess, trying to get her out of the trance she was in and assure her that nothing was going to happen to her while he was with her. In view of the fact that the princess did not seem to get out of the shock she was suffering, Jaime decided to sit her on a rock that was nearby.

While Rhaenys did not seem to know that she was now sitting on a rock, Jaime decided to dive into the river. He stink so much that Jaime stripped right there, remaining only in minor cloths, dropping his dirty clothes on the riverbank as he dived into the deep black waters of the _Blackwater._ Once he felt clean, or as clean as he could find after the events of that night, he headed towards the princess.

"My princess, forgive me for what I'm going to do, but I have to clean your wounds and remove the scab from the septic water." Jaime said as he took her with the gentleness with which as a child he had taken a newborn Tyrion.

Although he had rarely participated in his care, Jaime occasionally played with his little brother on the rocky shores of _Casterly Rock,_ so he tried to emulate his actions at the time. Grabbing the princess gently with both hands, he brought her to his chest without the girl putting up any resistance

 _'At least she knows I don't want to do anything bad to her and trusts me'_ thought with some relief. If she also resisted his care, it would be extremely difficult to take care of Rhaenys.

After that, Jaime went back into the river with her in his arms. He began to clean a shocked Rhaenys, who now seemed to have come to her senses, but did not make a sound. Jaime held her with one arm, while with the other hand he ran water over her face, her arms and her head. Although he knew it was not his place, nor proper, Jaime remove her of the half-burned garments that she wore for clothing, but which were now, apart of half burned, frayed, gnawed and stained with blood and stains of human excrement.

When the princess was stripped of all her clothing except for her undergarment, Jaime beheld something that stopped his heart, threatening to make him lose his senses.

On the little back of Rhaenys, now surprisingly of pale complexion, on the left side of the ribs, just below the scapula, a gash about three fingers wide and five fingers long appeared to have been sealed with fire from the insides of the body of the princess.

Recreating the events that had happened, Jaime realized that when the knight of the manticore had thrown the little princess against the wall, something must have gone through her back and chest.

' _But it is not possible. If so, she would be dead. She breathes. She's in shock, but she's breathing. She is alive. What sorcery of the Seven Hells is this '_ Jaime rationalized, trying to understand what was in front of his eyes. But everything he saw was incontestable.

Such a laceration would have killed even a grown man. Not to mention that a wound does not heal in a matter of hours, nor does it appear to have been sealed with fire from within the body. However, despite the shock and the absent gaze of the princess, she was alive in his arms. He felt her breath against his chest and his left arm. The princess body temperature was elevated, as those of a _Flame of the World_. Surely something dark had happened that night, but Jaime was unable to understand anything. He simply thanked all the gods that Rhaenys was, somehow, still alive.

Some riders passed along the river path when Jaime was cleaning the princess, but if they saw him in his hose or the skinny, half-naked girl with matted half-burned hair, they did not notice, or did not pay the slightest attention to them.

In view of the situation, Jaime decided to move as far away as he and the princess could from where they were. In front of the exit of the tunnels that led to the _Red Fortress._ After cleaning the clothes he still had as well as possible, Jaime put them on.

After that, with Rhaenys hugging his chest, they began to move away from _Kings Landing_ in an easterly direction.

If Jaime was exhausted after a night fighting, killing, committing regicide, saving a princess and crossing thousands of meters of tunnels and passageways, some of them submerged in excrement and human waste, after half a day of forced march with the girl in his arms, Jaime felt like he couldn't take it anymore. When he stopped walking, he tried to locate where they were and take a break.

It was noon the day after the _Sack_ , and certainly no one would march eastward looking for a _dead knight and a dead_ _princess_. They were at the bend of the _Blackwater_ half a day's march from _Rosby._ In a cliff side, protected by a thick grove there was a cave, where Jaime decided it would be safe to rest. Without realizing it, he and the princess spent several days sleeping close together inside the cave, warming each other.

After that, began the days and weeks of flight, always looking back, always avoiding any human contact. The princess and he survived based on what Jaime was able to capture with traps for animals such as hares, or what he was capable of fishing on the river bank and with the small bonfires that heated them at night. Their only protection, Jaime’s dagger.

So until one day when they arrived near Cape _Dunksdale,_ where they found a small one sail vessel anchored less than fifty meters from the shore. In the shore, a boat was stranded, probably waiting for its owner. ' _If I have murdered a King, stealing a boat is nothing'_ Jaime thought.

Lack of food, sleep and fatigue took their toll. Jaime’s senses after several weeks on the run were no longer as alert, if were alert to begin with. As he deposited the princess in the boat, the only thing he was able to register was a shadow behind him.

 _'Damn, there's only one paddle. How could I not realize it before…'_ The next thing he felt was an immense pain in his head and everything turned to darkness.

When Jaime opened his eyes again, he was in a small cabin with little light. In the dim light of the small porthole, he could see the princess sitting on the ground playing with a dragon carved in wood, near the cot where he was lying. As the boat rocked with the waves, Jaime tried to establish his position.

It was daylight, but he had no idea if it was the same day he had lost consciousness and even if his life depended on it, he was incapable of knowing the intentions of his captors.

The princess had been bandaged on the head and someone had sewn up the cut of her lip and left arm. She was wearing a shirt that surely belongs to a ten-day-old boy of the name, which served as a tunic for her.

Jaime, for his part, had his left arm in a sling, his abdomen was bandaged, and someone had cut his hair, sewn his cuts and healed his wounds. When he tried to sit up on the cot, he felt pain all over his body, making him groan.

" _Ser Jaime..."_ said the princess with concern and a small voice. Before Rhaenys could continue speaking, he tried to throw himself into hug her.

 _'The Others take away my pain. Thanks to the goddamn Seven, the fucking Mother Rhoyne, the goddamn Fourteen Flames of Valyria, and the fucking old Gods. Thank you. I have not failed in my mission. I have protected Rhaenys.'_ he came to think before passing out again.

After that, what came was the journey with the smuggler to _Dragonstone_ and from there to the Davos cottage, from where they finally ended up leaving at the beginning of 283 AC in the direction of Lys.

* * *

For all that reasons, back to the present fifteen years after that damned day of the _Sack,_ Jaime that sunset was heading towards _the Iron Bank_ as escort to Antaryon, the _Sealord_ of _Braavos_.

Suddenly three unnatural roars brought him out of his thoughts of the past. It was a sound like the one Jaime had never heard in his life. Without quite knowing why, Jaime’s body went on guard and tense, waiting for something to happen. In a few moments, the roars were repeated, reverberating through the walls of the houses of the narrow street, this time accompanied by high-pitched shrieks. However, the narrowness of the city's streets and canals, prevented Jaime from seeing beyond the roofs of the houses that closed over the canal and the street.

 _“[Aucturum. Go to the Bank Square and inspect what is happening.]”_ the fat _Sealord_ ordered suddenly, with a certain tremor and concern in his voice.

 _'Without a doubt, like me, he knows that those roars are not natural and something must be happening' he_ thought as he nodded, not bothering to answer him in the Valyrian bastard in which the braavosi spoke.

Jaime began to quickly ascend the steep stairs, after which he would come out to the narrow street that gave access to the _Iron Bank Square._ Unlike in _Westeros_ or when he worked as a mercenary, now he wore no armor, just donned embossed leather under a striking crimson shirt. This allowed him to sprint, something he soon saw, was doing almost everyone in the same direction as him. _'Without a doubt, from the esplanade of the square, you can see the source of the terrifying sound'_

As he reached the end of the street, Jaime gazed at the _Iron Bank_ building and at the plaza that stretched out in front of him. His mouth fell open in such a way that almost parted it. Although it was sunset and the sun must still be high in the sky, it seemed that it was dark as night.

When Jaime looked up to the sky to see what had happened to the sun, his surprise gave way to an immediate sense of panic, dread and fascination.

 _'So much thinking about the past has caused me to go madder than Aerys. I can't be seeing a fucking Dragon.’_ thought as a chill ran through Jaime’s body.

Not only was it a dragon, but it was a gigantic dragon, capable of hiding the sun. Black in color like coal, highlighting only the bloody red of the ridge behind its monstrous head that must have been the size of two carriages put together, and an color similar to that of a red-hot metal in its huge eyes.

At the base of the impossibly long neck, three figures seemed to be drawn against the sky. Each beat of the massive black membranous wings that ended in enormous claws, caused whirlwinds of air in the plaza on which he stood. The people who had gathered began to run off in different directions, but Jaime did not.

Jaime felt like he was pinned to the ground, unable to move a single muscle in his body, but equally unable to look away from the huge dragon that no doubt intended to land in the plaza. When the gigantic creature from the legends, which by its appearance remembered all the descriptions that Jaime had read as child of the _Black Dread,_ was less than twenty meters above the ground, emitted a long roar that almost deafened him.

To Jaime’s further surprise, the roar was answered by softer, but no less intimidating, roars from two other dragons circling the sky above the square. Glancing at the smallest of them, although gigantic compared to any other animal Jaime knew, sandy orange in color, he saw that it too was carrying what appeared to be two people. _'I've definitely gone crazy. Suddenly there are three gigantic dragons and none of them are in the hands of the surviving Targaryen.'_

The fact that there were dragons was not impossible. Jaime had seen their skulls in the _Iron Throne room_ thousands of times. Not to mention, since the night of the _Sack_ he hadn't rejected at all the existence of magic. But Jaime was convinced that if there was some magic in the world, it would be in the Targaryen blood. And dragons have always been bonded to the Targaryen, the only pure line descended from Valyria.

 _'Viserys and Daenerys must have been dead for years. It can't be them.’_ thought, and that's what made it incredible that he was suddenly looking at five people on top of dragons coming out of nowhere.

Suddenly, a thud that shook the ground beneath his feet caused Jaime to return his gaze to the gigantic winged fire worm that had landed on the steps of the _Iron Bank_ building _._

Shrugging over its own body, the dragon dropped its left wing, through which a girl descended first. This one must have been around the twelve days of the name. Athletic, tall for her age, her dark brown hair tied back in a long ponytail over her right shoulder. In the distance Jaime could see that she was fair in complexion, but not the pale Targaryen. She was dressed in black leather riding breeches over long gray woolen hose, black leather riding boots up to the knees, and a long dark blue corded tunic over a white woolen shirt. On his chest the girl wore an embossed leather breastplate, from which a full gray cape hung back. There was no trace of any sigil.

 _'She is not the Dragonrider'_ he muttered to himself as he contemplated the scene rapt.

After the girl, a boy came down, possibly a year or two younger than the girl. His hair was light brown, pulling copper. The boy would be around five feet tall, and he dressed practically the same as the girl, except that he wore a totally black cloak. The boy was not a Targaryen at all, but moved towards the dragon's neck with absolute normality and began unloading what appeared to be sacks dangling from the chains that served as mount.

When the last occupant of the dragon descended, Jaime nearly fainted. He was seeing a ghost. Or what he believed was the ghost of Rhaegar Targaryen in the year of the _Lannisport_ Tourney, when the prince was ten and five days of his name.

The _Ghost of the Prince_ wore all black except flashes of red on his cloak and on the collar of his surcoat. The armor, made up of chainmail, breastplate and back, was made of Valyrian steel like Jaime's eyes had never seen, varying in color according to the reflections of sunlight, oscillating between dazzling polish and smoky black. Brilliant blue, red, and purple jewels stood out in the carving of House Targaryen's rampant dragon. The same sigil was sewn in dark red thread on the black cloak. Over the right shoulder of the mysterious Targaryen's was somehow the pommel of a sword that could be no other than _Blackfyre_ and on the head, a band of Valyrian steel and rubies. The crown of the _Conqueror._

 _'Nothing I am seeing is real. I'm going to wake up soon.'_ Jaime tried to convince himself.

But when he took a closer look at the _ghost of Rhaegar_ , Jaime saw that it was a boy of about ten and five years of the name, slightly shorter than the _Last Dragon_ , less broad in the shoulders, and with more elongated features,

 _'Who the hell is he? It's impossible to be Viserys, right? And if it's him, where did he get the dragons, that armor, the sword and the crown of the Conqueror? Is he here for his mother or is it fortuitous? Who are the boy and girl with him?'_ tried to rationalize.

But when the gigantic dragon took flight again, to make room for the orange-yellowish dragon, the small boy raised a banner that confirmed some of Jaime’s suspicions, but momentarily flooded him with more doubts.

On a pole about four feet high, flapping proudly in the wind, was unfurled a House Targaryen banner about five feet long by one meter wide. On the back of this a shorter banner, but also on a black field, a white rampant dragon expelled its red flame. _'The bloody banner of Bloodraven and the Raven's Teeth. I'm sure I'm either dreaming or I've gone crazy_. _'_

Jaime had been so shocked after contemplating the sigils that he thought would never see them waving in the air again that hardly noticed that the second dragon had landed and its two occupants had descended at the same time.

When Jaime saw them, he was about to loosen his bladder from shock.

_'By all the Gods! They're alive! I have to get Rhaenys before they go!'_

And he started running like crazy in the direction of the _Happy Port._ Jaime had a _Queen Mother_ and a _Princess_ to warn.

_'We finally can go back home!'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S: Penny is Aerys' jester dwarf, which I have obviously aged about ten years. If there are fans of her, I'm sorry. Maybe his brother comes out in the future, but I'm not sure.  
> P.S2: For the fans of ASOIAF (I guess you are the majority of those who read my ficc) you will have noticed that the chapter is virtually Jaime II, II IV of ASoS and Jaime I and II of ADwD, with adjustments. His internal dialogue and conversations with Aerys / Rhaegar are almost exact from the books, but adapted to my Alternate Universe.  
> P.S3: In this chapter, as in Aejon I / II and Eddard II, is where the advancement of the events of 282/283 AC is most seen (Theorically in this ficc, Jaime is meeting Davos at the moment that Ned lifts the siege of Storm's End, hence the presence of the Redwyne fleet in opposition to the Velaryon. Rhaella is not 4 months lying in Dragonstone, if not only a month and a half, therefore Dany is fourteen years old, almost 15. In the canon has 13 for 14)  
> P.S3: These chapter take place well before the Tyrion I chapter, or the Mance / Benjen interludes, or the future Eddard III. Any chapter in Westeros that does not include the Targ (Aejon & Family) will always be in 298 AC, minimum 7 months after the suicide / resurrection of Aejon  
> P.S4: Jaime rescuing Rhaella is the same as Pippin rescuing Faramir.  
> P.S5: Jaime unknowingly offers two lives to the gods (three if we count Penny). I am going back to focus on the resurrection of Jon, Rhaegar, Lyanna (and no one else will be resurrected other than Beric xD) and now Rhaenys; One life pays for another. Fire & Blood (For more details, read notes on chapter 5 and 6) Rhaella never dies in my ficc (Which if seen as a whole, behind the Rebellion and others westerosi conspirations there is always a factor in common, its color is gray and they come from Oldtown)


	16. Rhaenys I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Exile of a Princess

** Twelfth day of the seventh moon of 297 BC. Braavos, Essos. **

_"Meria: I will not fight you, nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that._

_Rhaenys: I shall, but we will come again, Princess, and the next time we shall come with fire and blood._

_Meria: Your words. Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady ... but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril. "_

Meria Martell to Rhaenys Targaryen _Fire & Blood, The Conquest_

* * *

Even though the sun was just beginning to set, Rhaenys felt extremely tired and was barely paying attention to the guests at the inn. It had been two months in which she could hardly sleep.

And when she did, dreams, nightmares and ‘ _Madness?’_ chased her in the shadows of the night in her slumber.

For two moons, the dreams that she had from time to time since Nys was little and that she had never dared to share with anyone for fear that they would think that she was _just as sane_ as her grandfather, had constantly tormented her.

Every night in her dreams, Nys relived the day that her life changed forever. She could still remember how she ran as fast as could wit her little wobbly legs to her father's room. Nys’ mother's anguished screams still echoed in her head, echoing through the castle, as the _seven-time_ cursed of the _Mountain Who Rides_ had his way with her poor mother.

In Nys’ dreams it seemed as if she was reliving the arrival in her father's room. The moment she rushed inside and closed the door, desperately looking for a place to hide. Nys could hide under the bed waiting for her father to come to rescue her, but surely there they would look for her first. She didn't have time to think of a better place, as the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard from outside. Moving as fast as her little legs would allow, she slid under the bed. And Nys did it just in time, when the door slammed open and someone entered.

From under the bed, she could only see the boots gnawed and stained with mud and blood. Not wanting to alert the intruder of her presence, the little princess did her best to remain still. She even held her breath, hoping her breathing didn't give her away.

After waiting what seemed like an eternity, Rhaenys realized that she could no longer see the man, but saw flames begin to catch on the curtains and furniture in the room. She bit back a strangled sound, letting out a small sigh.

Almost as quickly as Nys let the air out, that sigh turned into a scream. Rough hands grabbed her legs and tried to pull her out from under her father's bed. Nys prayed that her strength and the kicks she was giving her aggressor would stop the stranger from hurting her. But deep down, she knew that there was no use praying for the gods, when not even her father had been able to save her mother.

The man who had grabbed her, clearly desperate began to insult Rhaenys visibly angry for her resistance "Come damn Dornish bitch, I will teach you.." said with a voice that sent shivers through Rhaenys entire body.

Before she knew it, it seemed as if the ground was moving underneath her, but it was the man who had definitely grabbed her, throwing her against the wall opposite where her father's bed was.

When Nys hit the wall, she felt a pain like the one Nys had never felt in her back. A pain that went beyond physical pain. A pain like no other had felt or would feel in her life. A pain that made Nys feel like she was on fire from her insides. Flames that spread a fire that consumed her and threatened to melt her from within.

Next, Rhaenys was overcome by the feeling of fire engulfing her and she was unable to see anything but darkness. After that, she lived a dream or a nightmare, of which Nys never dared to talk to anyone

 _‘Or even come to think about it’_. Because even Nys herself doubted of her sanity _'What would anyone think if the mad king's granddaughter told about that experience?'_ Rhaenys thought fifteen years after that day.

It was a dream that made her feel as if she had lived a whole life, which had ended in fire and blood over a castle in the middle of a desert.

When after whatever that was, she was able to open her eyes again, she woke up in the arms of Ser Jaime, while the knight was cleaning her in the Blackwater. Unable to process anything that had happened that night, she closed herself in, turning over the image that had been imprinted on her retina.

' _The one with the ice demons and the dragon in the shadows who died at their hands and how they later killed her_. _'_ Every time Nys thought about it, a chill ran down her spine.

Nys was unable to speak until Davos knocked Ser Jaime unconscious on the boat. Despite her young age, she knew that she could not allow the person who had cared for her as if he were her brother or her father, to suffer for her.

At that moment it never occurred to Nys that the man who had left Ser Jaime lying down, like the man’s children, would end up becoming members of her _family_. Being Davos and his wife Marya like their grandparents. For their part, although Dale and Allard were sworn swords to her and her grandmother Rhaella, they were practically like her cousins. And even if rushed, Mathos, the closest in age to her, might consider him almost like a brother.

Because although Rhaenys had never had a brother, she had been looking forward to meeting the son of her second mother, of whom her mother and father spoke so well. Also, even if she didn't know how to explain it, Rhaenys knew what it was like to feel one's brother love. This feeling was like a memory thread that she was never able to unravel, but from which every night Nys was able to sleep, flashes appeared.

This flashes were memories of a shadow that was always with her, that cared for her and protected her against everything and everyone. A shadow with eyes like the ones Nys never seen before or after. It was the only thing she knew of the mysterious memory. Those two black wells with purple and silver streaks running through them, emitting sparkles that seemed to glow.

Along with the memory of the shadow, Nys had the memory of having felt free in the heavens, but she did not understand how could have experienced such a sensation. _'What I would give to be free and to be able to fly to the ends of the world, where no one cared who my real father and family were'_

* * *

"Hey Nys !? Have you heard what I asked of you girl? " Ballaquo Pahraenor, the spice merchant and regular customer of _The Green Eel,_ suddenly exclaimed, snapping her out of her reveries and thoughts.

"Sorry Ballaquo, I've been resting badly for a few days. What did you ask of me?" she answered in a friendly tone, as Nys tried to compose herself from the thoughts that kept her from resting at night and kept her distracted during the day.

“I wanted sardines fried crispy in pepper oil and served so hot it burns my fingers. And some watered down wine. Tomorrow I have to go to sea and I can't be hungover Ha!" ordered the plump ship captain. His dark brown hair was beginning to lighten and the occasional gray seemed to appear, however Bellaquo would not have even forty days of his name. The skin, tanned by sea salt and darkened by countless days in the sun.

 _'Surely before whatever happened me in the Sack, my skin had to have that hue. Jaime and my muña Rhaella have told me many times, that before that night my skin was typically Martell, to become a pale complexion typical of Valyria,’_ Nys thought after nodding to the braavosi, for then go towards the bar where Nys’ grandmother commanded the Inn with the help of Davos and Marya.

Davos's wife was the cook and manager of the tavern, while her _muña Rhaella_ was in charge of hosting the inn customers and take the orders from the clients of the tavern. Davos, so to speak, was responsible for unifying both jobs, while Gerion was supposedly the owner.

That was the reason why the most recognizable of them all, barely showed the face around the common room or the inn tavern. Although Gerion had been missing for seven years and rumors from _Westeros left_ him for dead on the way to _Valyria_ and the _Doom_ , no one wanted to risk that they could put all the pieces together and end up being recognized.

"Mother, they have ordered crunchy fried sardines in pepper oil and a jug of watered down wine.” Nys told her _grandmother_ Rhaella, who was posing as her mother to the public. In this way they explained the color of her hair dyed entirely in silver, despite the fact that only half of Nys’ mane actually had the typical Targaryen color.

Nys's _alleged_ father, which is as she called herself now, had been a Tyroshi mercenary who visited Lys and got her supposed mother pregnant. Alone and pregnant, her mother _Jenny of Lys_ met the smuggler Davos and his family, who helped _Jenny_ to start a small sales business.

 _Shortly_ after _Nys_ was _born_ , her _father's_ _brother_ , _uncle_ _Aucturum came_ to Lys, to announce that Nys father had died in the _Disputed Lands_ , but not before making Aucturum promise to protect his daughter with his life.

From then on, they roamed the _Free Cities_ in search of making a living, until they found Garrion Hestar, a wealthy merchant who fell in love with Nys _mother_ and had the idea of taking over the inn at _The Green Eel_ to settle the _family_ in Braavos _._

When Rhaenys thought of the charade they had created, she couldn't help but laugh at the ironies surrounding the story they had created.

' _As Davos always says, the best lies are those that contain a bottom of truth,'_ Nys mused as she gazed at the former smuggler, now innkeeper, who was standing at the back of the tavern serving boisterous sailors clamoring for ale.

“Now I ask Marya to make the food. In the meantime, take him the jug of watered wine, Nys” grandmother replied as she gave Nys a small mud vessel that was with the others behind the bar, as well as a jug to serve it.

Although it seemed degrading that the last two women descendants of the _Forty Families of Valyria_ were working tending an inn, Rhaenys had many times thanked for the simplicity that her life had acquired since their arrival in Braavos. Until arriving in the city of canals, she had lived in fear.

Fear of being discovered, fear of being enslaved, fear of being handed over to the _usurper,_ and even fear of meeting someone from her Dornish family. The last thing Rhaenys wanted after the war that triggered her father's actions and led to the overthrow of her family, was to go down in history as the name that would serve as an excuse for another bloody civil war.

' _Westeros didn't have a queen even when she was the first in line of succession and the Targaryen had dragons. My grandmother or I could never be queens.'_

Should the overthrow of the Baratheon, Lannister, Arryn and Stark succeed, the rest of the great lords would never accept being ruled by women. _The Dance_ had clearly taught that. Not to mention that the possible candidates were two women who had been dead for fifteen years in the eyes of all of them.

_'If only Lyanna, my brother and their King’s Guards had survived, we might now have a base on which to plan the invasion to reclaim the Iron Throne.'_

Rhaenys desire for revenge for the deaths of her mother, father and unborn brother were tempered by putting things into perspective. Another of the great lessons learned in her essosi journey.

Despite having recovered her grandmother's crown in Myr, they had found no sign of Viserys or Daenerys to Nys grandmother's infinite sadness. Whom, although she did not want to admit it and put on a stoic facade, still had hopes of one day finding her children.

What little she remembered about uncle Viserys made Nys think of grandfather, which caused her mixed feelings about seeing him again. While she hadn't even met her aunt and if she was alive, she was almost four days of her name younger than her.

"... Yes, a shadow suddenly covered my entire boat, covering the sun completely ... For a moment I thought it would be the end of the world, but as quickly as it left, the sun returned and the shadow that covered it disappeared" heard Rhaenys comment to one of the boisterous sailors being served by Davos.

"That is sure an invention ..." replied another after taking a long drink from the jug that Davos had just served him.

“I swear the captain doesn't lie. I was on deck when it happened. Something covered the sun for a moment.” said a third sailor, supporting the words that the first of the sailors had spoken, who apparently was the skipper of some boat.

“And will you also tell me that you saw a kraken? Har! Har! If you wanted me to buy you some jugs, lads you didn't need to tell me fantastic stories!" replied the interpellated, finishing the jug in one gulp.

Davos's face when listening to the story of talked by the sailors, made Nys think that it was one of the thousand typical stories of sailors and that she should not pay attention.

When she got to Bellaquo's table, Nys started to serve him the wine, when suddenly began to feel a great internal tightness in her chest. As if it were on fire and something was calling her from within. For a moment, to Rhaenys it seemed to feel like the night of the Sack.

The sensations were so strong that she began to tremble, causing her to let go of the pot and jug she was carrying.

"Crash!" the noise of the pottery smashing against the floor echoed, causing almost everyone present to look at her, while Dale subtly appeared a few steps from Nys to make sure everything was in order.

However, she was not attentive to the mud vessel and jug now broken on the floor and its contents spilled on the cold wet stone paving. Nor did she pay attention to the fact that she had suddenly become the center of attention of the inn.

No. The moment the artifacts she was carrying hit the ground, she could swear she hadn't heard them break. She would swear at her father's grave, if he had one, that just at that moment there were three unnatural, but strangely familiar roars. As if Nys had known them all her life and that something in them attracted her like honey to a bee.

Without thinking twice, she quickly stepped onto the street that connected to _Happy Port_ , followed by a Dale who was unable to hide the concern was experiencing for her.

"Nys! You're good? What's wrong? You have turned paler than usual and your eyes… your eyes seem to be surrounded by a shine that had never been present in them.” said Nys’s sworn sword with a nervous and worried tone.

But Rhaenys couldn't pay attention to him. She felt that there was something close that was calling her. The tightness in her chest had given way to a sense of inner warmth that seemed to have been dormant in her, her entire life, but felt natural and her own.

 _'As if i had always possessed this inner fire.'_ Rhaenys thought, still ignoring Dale, that was grimacing more and more worried.

However, Rhaenys's gaze was focused on the sky, where despite her multiple scans, she was unable to find anything. ‘ _I must have heard the Titan receiving a ship from someone important_.' thought quickly, discarding any other option that might haunt her mind, putting the most impossible theories that came to mind on her terrible dreams.

"Hey! Nys are you in here? What's wrong? Shall I call your grea… ”Dale began to say in an accelerated and increasingly shrill tone.

"I'm fine." Rhaenys cut him short dryly, before Dale could say anything that could be overheard by someone who might cause them trouble.

“It was nothing Dale. I have had a little dizziness, probably caused by how bad I am sleeping lately and the humid heat that is today." Nys tried to explain herself in the calmest, most natural tone possible, although her voice trembled a bit.

 _'Should I explain to Dale my dreams and what I have felt, or should I discuss it with Grandma? No ... Grandma rejects everything that smells of magic. Summerhall, the witch's prophecy and Aerys make it impossible to mention these things to her.'_ Nys thought internally, as looked at Dale, who seemed to have relaxed a bit, but still showed concern in his eyes. _Almost the same gaze Davos looked at me with on the Dunskdale shoreline fifteen years ago.'_

"What were you looking for with your eyes out here?" Dale asked curiously, having noticed that she had gone out to look for something.

"To be honest I have no idea. I felt as if something had called me ... but you can see that there is nothing. Surely my moon is about to come and that's why I have these sensations and my body is so strange today.” Rhaenys settled, claiming as responsible for her ills a subject that she knew no man would delve into.

 _‘Able to kill another human being as if nothing, but scared by a natural process of a woman's body. Men!'_ she muttered to himself at the simplicity of the male gender on some issues.

Dale upon hearing the words _Monthly Moon,_ seemed that had been exposed before one of the _Others_ or the _Stranger himself_. Such an attitude would have been a great deal of amusement to Nys on another occasion, but today she didn't feel like making Dale an object of her tireless mockery.

"Easy, I'm fine. I only ask that you do me the favor of taking my place in the tavern for tonight, as I think I would feel better if I go up to my room." Rhaenys said to Dale, with a tone and a gesture with which Nys knew he wouldn’t deny her anything.

She was aware that with her looks, she could easily manipulate many men. Even those who saw her as their family. And Dale was no exception. Although this possibly always acceded to all Nys’s whims more for affection towards her person, than for sexual attraction.

After snorting into the void, Dale smiled at her saying "I'll do you the favor if you can convince your _uncle_ to let me wield his ancestral steel at least during a stances practice"

It seemed like this time it wasn't going to be for free for her convince Dale for to fill Nys position at the tavern, but she could certainly convince Jaime to let the middle son of Davos use _Brightroar_ for at least some random training, right?

' _Considering that Jaime loves that sword more than his own uncle, I am not so sure about it… But I need to retire to my room for today.'_

She went back to the door through which had left the tavern and which Dale had left ajar behind it. By the time Nys reached it, she turned and addressed Dale.

"You’ve got a deal done, Dale. You know that _my uncle cannot refuse an order from me.”_ Nys said with a smile from ear to ear, as she winked at her sworn sword.

Although no one said it often, everyone knew that Jaime was with them because of her and therefore, Jaime continued to consider himself a _Queen’s Guard_ and she, _the legitimate heir to the Iron Throne_ , hence he was at Nys call and command.

Although Rhaenys had rarely commanded Jaime anything in all her life. _'Don't forget what you ordered him to do in Myr'_ an accusing voice inside her told Rhaenys.

At times, she was truly convinced that she was a worthy heir to her grandfather. Since that terrible night, Nys had always had the company of an inner voice. A travel companion in her life, who at times seemed to take control of her own actions, mind and body. But nonetheless, that voice, that presence within her, did not feel alien. _'On the contrary, it feels like an extension of myself.'_

_'Because as I have explained to you a thousand times, you and I are two people and one at the same time ... damn ... I don't know how to explain it better ... my sister could explain better what happens to us. But trust me, you're not mad, and you won't be.'_

Answered the voice of ‘ _Herself?’_ with a certain tension for not knowing how to explain herself better, but always with the love and trust that she had had with her.

Once her inner voice explained that the dreams she had were the memories of her previous life. Although the voice never clarified the previous life of which of the two. _IF_ from her or her inner voice.

 _‘Nor will I clarify it until I have the proof of what I say.’_ the presence _declared_ in Nys head, after which it seemed to cut every thread between them, at least for the moment.

Taking the disconnect with her inner voice as a cue, she made her way rapidly through the tavern to the stairs that led to the upper floor. In it, the western wing of the first of the two floors of the inn, belonged to her _family_ and was where Nys was going.

"Nys, what are you doing here so soon? Is something the matter? Is it because of the lack of sleep, right?” Gerion asked her as soon as she entered the room that was used as a family solar. The lannister was behind the desk, with notes and account books covering every space of it.

“Nothing happened to me _Uncle_ , really. It's just… I've been sleeping badly for two moons and a while ago I've had some very strange sensations, but as I already told Dale, I think it's because my _Moon is about to come_ that I've suffered a little dizziness." she said calmly and warmly to Gerion.

Despite being Tywin's brother, she certainly regarded Gerion Lannister as an uncle. Where Davos and her grandmother were strict and imperative most of the time, Gerion had always indulged her in everything. Gerion had always treated her like an adult, not hiding his racy jokes, or foul language. There were even times when he told Nys that since he couldn't be a father for his natural daughter Joy, at least he had to pamper someone.

It was in moments like those, when Nys felt guilt for having dragged Jaime, Gerion, Davos and Davos’s family to live on the run and under false identities. Lying about their past, all with the goal of protecting her.

And when Nys saw that the concern on Gerion's face did not disappear after having mentioned that it was probably the coming of her _Moon_ that caused her illness, Rhaenys understood that the excuse that worked with Dale, would not work with Gerion.

 _'And of course, no matter how much confidence I have with him, I'm not going to tell him what's wrong with me. I don't want to see that look of concern for me change to one of concern towards me.'_ she thought, with a certain selfishness and fear that if they knew she was possibly crazy, they would abandon her to her fate.

“It's nothing, seriously Gerion. I need to lie down in my room for a while and for dinner I will be as good as new.” Rhaenys said warmly and with the best of her smiles.

Although Nys was well aware that the smile did not reach her eyes and Gerion was not going to stop worrying about her, it seemed that for the moment he was going to let her be. With a sigh and an affirmative nod, Gerion smiled up at her and went back to the inn numbers.

When Nys finally entered her room, the first thing Nys did was to lock the door. Except for her grandmother with whom she shared it, no one else entered the room and Nys did not expect her grandmother to be going up immediately.

The second thing she did, almost unconsciously and without realizing it, was to go to the chest where all evidence of who they really were was kept under lock and key. The crown of her grandmother; the birth certificates of her and grandmother Rhaella; the annulment of father's marriage with her mother due to problems in her health; the copy of the marriage certificate between father and Lyanna Targaryen; Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark's son's birth certificate; And above all, two banners of House Targaryen.

It was one of those banners that seemed to be calling her to the chest at that time, and so she opened it. To be able to finish embroidering it.

Ever since Rhaenys began having dreams two moons ago, her inner voice convinced her that it was time to start embroidering her own war banner, in case it was necessary to get out of the charade. And something inside Nys agreed, because from that day on, every night before going to bed, she had the urge to work on the huge black silk cloth that she had gotten in exchange for almost everything she had gained in two months of work in the tavern.

Her personal sigil was not going to be strident at all, nor was it going to leave the pattern of the black field and a single quarter. But Nys wanted to add a personal touch to it, something that showed her two roots. That is why in the claws of the three-headed rampant dragon in wine red thread, was embroidering in silver thread a silver sun pierced by a spear with the same thread of the dragon.

' _At the end of the day, just as I am a descendant of the Forty, I am a descendant of Garin the Great and Nymeria.'_ Nys was proud about it, while feeling strangely conflicted every time she thought about the lineages from which she came. As if something inside her lived in constant conflict with her _Rhoynar_ part.

 _'Another of the things that I will probably never understand why they happen to me'_ thought as she lost track of time while working on the banner, noting that in the absence of a couple of stitching, it would be ready. Ready to be kept forever, but at least there would be some memory of who she really was.

 _"Pom! Pom! Pom! Pom! Pom!”_ the door banged abruptly, pulling her out of her fleeting melancholy. The beating sounded agitated and urgent.

"Yes?" she asked in a small voice, fearing the worst.

" _Princess come out ... Something has happened in the Square of the Iron Bank... We have to return there immediately"_ was heard from the other side of the wooden door to an agitated and very nervous Ser Jaime.

 _'Now that I think about it, DID HE JUST CALL ME PRINCESS? HAS GONE MAD!? We are not the only ones who occupy the first floor.’_ she thought quickly, terrified at the repercussions that the slip that Jaime had just committed could have.

“You are wrong, there is no princess here. Only the daughter of the owner of the inn.” She answered Jaime as loudly as possible, as Nys went to open the door to verbally admonish her _Queen’s Guard. 'Our titles were never supposed to be pronounced even in private! He will hear me ...’_

 _"Pom! Pom! Pom! Pom!_ Seriously Rhaenys, just stop playing! Come out and grab the banners before you leave! Quick, we have to get back before they leave!" Jaime's voice could possibly be heard even in the street, so he would have to have some reason to have broken the farce in such a dramatic way.

Jaime was also asking for the banners they thought they would never use, to find for someone. _'But whom?'_ Nys wondered as she quickly retraced her steps to the chest, to pick up both banners.

As she did this, Nys began to hear the hissed, nervous and trembling voice of her grandmother, arguing with Ser Jaime in the solar. Davos and Allard appeared to be also there. _‘I have to get out quick and find out what the hell is going on.’_

“I swear on my mother’s grave, _your grace_ , it was them. I only saw her in passing at Harrenhall, but he… he was the same as when I last saw him before leaving for the _Trident_ . If _your grace_ will forgive me the expression, I almost pissed on myself when I saw them. It was like seeing the ghost of…”Ser Jaime explained to Rhaenys’s grandmother, who had an expression on her face that Rhaenys did not know whether to qualify as infinite joy or absolute panic.

Seeing her leaving the room, every voice was silenced, while all eyes were on her.

The rest of those present were pale and with expressions of disbelief, although strangely Gerion's forehead was beaded with cold sweat. Ser Jaime was agitated, half undressed, hair totally disheveled, and his _King’s guard_ armor that was procured in Qohor was being arranged between Mathos and Dale.

Rhaenys was unable to understand anything that was before her eyes, so she said the first thing that came to her mind, pretending to keep up the mummery.

“Is it okay wit Marya that we're all here while she takes care of everything downstairs? And Aucturum, why in the _seven hells are_ you referring to us by those names !?" Rhaenys said with the countenance of normality that she could conjure up right now.

Something about her question made Ser Jaime lose his composure and start laughing like a madman. To which her grandmother reacted with a nervous smile and as if self-affirming herself, before clearing her voice.

"You see, my _riña_ ... I don't know how to tell you in a softer way, so I'm going to tell you what apparently just happened before the _Iron Bank."_ grandmother Rhaella said tenderly, as when Nys was little and she sang lullabies to her when she had nightmares at night.

Something in her grandmother’s tone had set off all her alarms. _'Except in situations of extreme danger or great stress, she never use that tone.’_ Nys reflected, while her grandmother shot Ser Jaime a reproachful look, that if looks could kill, the one grandmother’s had just shot, would have. Several times. Ser Jaime immediately stopped his practically maniacal laugh, to regain some composure, which grandmother took as a foot to continue the explanation.

"Ser Jaime was accompanying the _Sealord_ to _the Iron Bank_ , when apparently three roars rang out ..."

“I thought I had imagined them! Can’t be! They had been in my mind!” Nys exclaimed suddenly interrupting her grandmother. Apparently Dale and Gerion had put the pieces together instantly, for they both asked at the same time.

"Is that why your state from before?" with some alarm and concern in their voices.

She nodded, causing her grandmother and Ser Jaime to exchange glances in a strange way, to look at her again.

"Have you ... heard them?" her grandmother asked with some disbelief.

"Do you know at what do they belong to?" Ser Jaime questioned Nys at the same time.

If the atmosphere was one of some concern and disbelief when Nys entered the solar, now everyone seemed absolutely worried, except Jaime and grandmother, who had lost all hint of panic in her expression, to reflect a joy and a radiance as rarely had seen before.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?" Nys asked, tired of not knowing what was wrong and what this had to do with what she had thought she heard and felt.

"According to my nephew, the three roars that you claim to have heard belong to three gigantic dragons." Gerion sentenced from his position behind the desk, as if speaking of a normal occurrence.

 _'Okay, they are the ones who are going mad. Dragons haven't existed for over a hundred and fifty years,_ thought to herself, seeing that no one contradicted what Gerion had just said.

 _'You are a dragon and yet, you exist. Maybe it was just a matter of time before you met the being you were destined to bond with.'_ her inner voice suddenly answered a question never asked.

Seeing that she had suddenly fallen into a state of shock, her grandmother quickly continued telling what had caused Ser Jaime's irruption in that already, nightfall.

“My _riña_ … that's not all. In two of the three dragons were people. In the largest, a lad who according to Ser Jaime will be approximately five and ten days of the name, typically Valyrian in appearance, accompanied by a younger boy with copper hair and a younger girl with dark brown hair, both pale in complexion. None of the children wore sigils, but the lad... the lad wore the rampant dragon of our house in his cloak ... and the younger boy displayed on a pole the war banner of House Targaryen, accompanied on the other side by the personal banner of _Lord Brynden Rivers…”_

That her grandmother spoke freely Jaime's name and house Targaryen had totally surprised her.

The existence of a boy from her house, a couple of years younger than her, to whom a dragon was bonded, was something that directly made her rethink everything she knew. Because if there was one thing for sure, it was that if Viserys by some miracle of the _Seven was_ still alive, this was almost four days of his name older than her and she very much doubted that Viserys had a dragon. ‘ _And if he has one, he’s not_ _even going to have a gigantic dragon like the one they are claiming this lad has’_ her inner voice reminded Nys internally.

The fact that after a hundred years absent, the banner of _Bloodraven_ had once again made an _appearance_ , accompanying the young _Dragonrider_ only added to the unreal of what they were explaining to Rhaenys.

It can be seen that the skepticism provoked by what she had just heard was reflected in her face, because before she could question her grandmother, Ser Jaime interrupted her.

" _Your Excellency,_ I have never lied to you about anything and I swore that I would always protect you, just as I promised your father that I would." Ser Jaime said, staring at her with his huge emerald green eyes, almost imploring her to believe him.

Except fifteen years ago, Nys had never seen such a look in Ser Jaime. _'It's the look from when he recognized me aboard Davos boat, before he passed out for three days.'_

Without a doubt, Jaime had Rhaenys complete confidence, so she let him know. “Ser, you know that if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here today. By now you should know that I trust you implicitly. What you tell me is true, I will believe it. So I order you, tell me at once what is happening. Is Viserys the dragon boy? No, no? Do you know who he is? What relationship do they have with us?" Rhaenys spoke to Jaime in a tone that she rarely used and that Mathos called her _Queen's_ voice _._

" _Your Excellency,_ the two persons who descended from the second dragon, are your father Prince Rhaegar and Princess Lyanna Targaryen" Ser Jaime pronounced slowly, deliberately and in a rhythmic manner, with a vibrant and exuberant tone of hope, as well as with some mysticism.

Rhaenys at the time really didn't know how to react. A thousand and one thoughts came to her at once, but she was unable to say anything or even to move. She was only able to stand still under the lintel of her room, gazing into the faces of those who were in the familiar solar of the inn. She could see her grandmother's lips moving, but she didn't hear any sound.

* * *

After, somehow, managing to regain her senses and compose herself, they quickly prepared themselves as best they could, hurrying towards the nearby Square in front of the _Iron Bank._

Upon arriving there, an expectant crowd seemed to have gathered in the vicinity of the gigantic building that was the headquarters of the _Braavosi_ loan _sharks_.

Without a doubt, the reason for this was the two massive dragons that flew over the sky above the _Iron Bank_ and the even more humongous and massive dragon, which was leaning like a gigantic gargoyle on one of the towers that finished off the great building. Its black color made it blend in with the shadows of the building's finials in the night darkness, except for the gleam of its enormous reddish-orange eyes, which immediately reminded Rhaenys of the color of the ever-present flame in the temple of _Rhllor_ in Volantis.

The weight of the mythical creature seemed to have collapsed part of the roof of the tower, observing how rocks and bricks fell from time to time from the top.

 _'By all the gods, Ser Jaime hadn't made it up. They are monstrously huge. Yet they are strangely familiar to me. As if I had seen them often and dealt with them.'_ Rhaenys thought, trying to rationalize the absence of fear towards the mythological creatures that were in the distance before her eyes.

When some of those present observed her and the retinue with she was accompanied, as well as the banners displayed by Dale and Mathos for everyone to see, murmurs began to surround them, until they were practically surrounded by people. Preventing them from advancing to reach the bridge over the channel that separated the part of the square with the part of the building itself.

Ser Jaime and Allard, who were trailing her and her grandmother like shadows, immediately tensed, reaching for the hilt of their swords, a gesture imitated by Gerion and Davos in front of her.

When it seemed that the situation could escalate to major, a deafening roar that seemed to approach towards them, immediately dispersed the crowd gathered around them.

At that moment Rhaenys felt the warmth and tightness of her chest that she felt when had thought she was listening to dragons at the sunset in the tavern, but this time was multiplied infinitely.

She didn't quite understand what was happening, as Nys suddenly felt frozen in place. Unable to move from the site. But at the same time, she felt like she was watching herself from the sky as she soared through it.

"By the _New Gods,_ that beast is coming straight here!" Gerion screamed in horror as he drew his longsword. This gesture was imitated by Davos, Ser Jaime and Allard, causing her to come out of the trance in which she had been induced.

However, Nys did not understand the reason for the panic of her companions, or the fact that her grandma squeezed her left hand as if life were in it.

 _'The black dragon is still so calm, perched at the top of the bank building, while the smallest I am watching it fly overhead right now ...'_ She tried to understand the horror of her retinue, but was unable to do so until Rhaenys realized that no one there was looking straight ahead except for her. Everyone was watching in her back direction.

Turning around, Nys also understood.

Less than a hundred meters high and fifty meters away, descending at breakneck speed, wings folded into an arrow-shaped body, a mass of glowing silver scales, was heading without any hesitation directly towards them.

The head of the incredible and wonderful dragon would be the size of a carriage and would be nearly fifty meters long, and its wings would possibly be around one hundred meters wide when unfolded.

However, it was not the size, nor the gracefulness in its flight, nor even its splendid and brilliant color that had immediately captivated her of the mythological creature. No.

Its gigantic eyes were two brilliant amethysts that stood out between the white and gray color of the scales that made it appear silver. Eyes of a purple color, tending to lilac that resembled Nys’s own eyes.

When she stared into the eyes of the extraordinary being, for a moment she felt again as if she were looking at herself from outside. It was as if it were just her and the dragon.

Barely realizing it and without anyone being able to stop her, she began to advance in the direction the dragon was approaching. When it saw her action, it immediately closed the distance between itself and the ground, landing immediately, causing a tremor throughout the square that almost made Nys lose her balance.

She could hear her grandmother yelling at her to stop and Ser Jaime being stopped by Gerion and Davos, but she couldn't help it and continued advancing towards the dragon.

When Nys was less than fifteen paces from the dragon, it raised its neck and body to its full extent, emitting a deafening roar at the same time that it released a huge blaze of silver fire, almost white that lit up as if it were a new sun on the night.

The heat from the flare was so strong that even some forty meters below where it had been expelled, it seemed as if it were scorching her. But it was a warmth that felt good, that completed her. It was something that she had always been missing and that until that day Nys did not know that she had been missing.

Nys wouldn't know if it was her, or the voice inside her, but she suddenly addressed in _High Valyrian_ to the dragon with a tone that bordered on euphoria, _“[Meraxes !!! It's me girl! I am Rhaenys! We are back together!]"_

_'Meraxes? As in the Meraxes of Rhaenys Targaryen, the Dragon's sister?'_ Rhaenys asked herself, not expecting an answer.

However, that was being a day that no one would have been able to foresee what would happen next, because the voice inside her answered _'And who did you think I was all the time? Or who do you think you are? All this time? Are you really still unable to accept it?'_ the voice asked Nys.

Nys had no opportunity to answer to ‘ _Herself?’_ as _‘Meraxes?’ s_ uddenly brought its snout to ground level, placing itself only a couple of feet from Rhaenys. Its enormous jaws gave off a terrible stench of fish and _sea._ Its two huge eyes were fixed on hers. _Meraxes_ exuded an almost unbearable heat, but one that Nys was able to resist and to some extent, thanked and comforted her.

Unable to react or move, the dragon suddenly gave Nys a ‘ _caress?’_ nudging her lightly with its nose on her chest, while emitting a murmur like satisfaction, which reminded Rhaenys of her cat _Balerion_ when it purred.

 _"[It seems you want us to be friends]"_ she said tenderly in her hissed H _igh Valyrian_ to _Meraxes,_ whom responded by increasing the reverberation of its murmur and bowing it head even more before her, in a gesture of submission.

There would have been no dragons in over a hundred and fifty years, but even Nys was able to understand when a being, however mythological, showed submission. Seeing such a gesture she was unable to avoid it and directed her hand towards the gigantic snout, stroking her right hand between the two amethyst eyes of the dragon while being on tip toe.

Excited screams made Nys aware of her surroundings. When she took her eyes off _Meraxes_ , to return her gaze to where her grandmother and Ser Jaime were, she saw something that although the latter had told Nys it was like that, she could not finish accepting.

"Daughter!" her father yelled heartbreakingly, starting a mad rush to where she was.

Before she knew it, her father was holding her so tightly that he was almost hurting Nys, as he was bearing his armor. But feeling her father hug her again was unimaginable. Without realizing it, she began to cry uncontrollably. Something that after a few sobs she had just realized, her father Rhaegar Targaryen was also doing.

"Dad! I never imagined that I would see you again! I can’t believe it! You are alive! And you look the same as in my memories!" she uttered excitedly, her voice trembling and agonized, revealing part of her disbelief at what she not only saw, but also touched. In this case, she was hugging with all her might.

Nys’s father seemed to understand the plea that she had made for explanations, as he contained his until then emotional crying and collected himself as best could, but not before giving Nys another hug that almost took the air out of her lungs.

As her father stepped away from her, she could see that indeed, he looked the same as the last time Nys saw him before leaving to confront the usurper. Even his armor that had been broken in the now called _Ruby_ ford, was completely unscathed. It seemed as if five-and-ten years had not passed for Nys’s father.

"It's because I really was dead until two moons ago, when a ri ..."

Father tried to explain, but was interrupted by a voice with a steel timbre, but melodious. Tough, but vibrant. A voice that awakened something within her that she was unable to explain.

_"Hāedar"_

As she headed towards the issuer of those words, suddenly all the shadows of her memories and dreams disappeared.

The veil of darkness, fear of madness and sleepless nights finally had an answer, although this did not mean that Nys suddenly accepted it.

 _"EGG??!!"_ she yelled stridently, almost unable to control herself.

"It can not be, it can not be! All was a dream! Just a dream!" After Nys finished saying those words, her body felt like jelly and a cold heat began to run down her neck and back.

Nys did not understand how, but suddenly it was as if the ground were moved under her feet and she was put on her side,

"RHAEEEEEE!" It was the last thing she heard before lost consciousness.

* * *

* * *

_Riña_ : Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank each one of you who read this. Without you there would be no reason to publish it.  
> Second, to thank the constant support of some of my readers. You have no idea how much is appreciated.  
> Any constructive criticism, respectful comment and contribution of good vibes, will be well received.
> 
> With the next chapter the conquest of Essos officially begins, but I warn you, a conquest is not always in military terms. For great military actions, Aejon still needs to reach Qohor, although to see Balerion it takes less :)


	17. Rhaegar II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Free Bank of Valyria and a family reunion in Braavos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhaegar finishes exposing before the Iron Bank the plans that Aegon began to present his last chapter to Uncle Aemon and in a square in Braavos an impossible reunion takes place.

**12th day of the seventh moon of 297 BC Braavos, Northwest of _Essos_ . **

_'Rhaegar fought valiantly, Rhaegar fought nobly, Rhaegar fought honorably. And Rhaegar died. '_ Jorah Mormmont to Danerys. _ASSOS, Daenerys II._

__

* * *

Entering through the gigantic golden door, they were greeted by a mere concierge and the thirteen massive statues of the _Keyholders_ responsible for founding this institution of unparalleled wealth and extortion. The _Iron Bank,_ itself, a massive building made of marble and supported by golden stone cyclopean pillars.

 _'Although really this monumental edifice is built on the blood of everyone who dared to challenge them. That is really the Iron Bank.’_ Rhaegar muttered to himself, as he contemplated the long room in which they were now and in which they had already been for a long time.

Before accessing it, they were led by the concierge from the heavy golden door that could only be opened with the help of a good dozen men and through hundreds of steps that led from the entrance, to the stays where they now stand. They were awaiting the appearance of the _Keyholders_.

The stays in which Rhaegar and his family were waiting was a rectangular room that opened beyond doors, which, like the gigantic ones at the entrance, were golden. Wide, decorated on its high and long right wall with large paintings, surrounded by gilded frames. They depicted men in colorful tunics of silk, brocade and lace, all of them wearing the most impossible beards ever seen. Rhaegar waited for a while looking at them with great curiosity, as some of them showed a certain resemblance to the statues in front of the entrance.

On the left side was a gallery of tall windows, which practically covered the entire wall. At the back of the room was a huge black marble counter, in front of which stood a small stone bench. On the other side of the counter there were three huge stone armchairs, behind which was a door identical to the one through which they had entered and on which, engraved on the wall, was the infamous sigil of the entity that controlled the _Essosi_ economy.

 _'The Iron Bank will have what is due to it.'_ Rhaegar recalled the common phrase used by the _Braavosi_ institution as a little veiled threat to show its strength.

Lyanna was standing a couple of feet from him, leaning her back against the wall as she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, glancing from side to side with a look that promised an ice storm in case the wait lasted longer. Showing that patience wasn't Lya's greatest strength. _'It is something we must work on more. I have no problem with her expressing herself freely, but she can't lose the facade so easily. It could be easily used by others.'_ He analyzed from the point of view of the _Game._

Rhaegar’s wife was dressed in her current _gala_ clothes, which were the same with which she left _Winterfell_ , more than two moons ago. _'Fortunately at the Wall we did not need too much etiquette, or to show off our position, but from now on we will need to improve our wardrobe.'_ Rhaegar concluded after observing that his wife, like the _little Winter Princess_ , they seemed to be more well dressed to participate in a war campaign than for a diplomatic evening.

The presence of _Needle_ on her left hip, the twin sword still unnamed on her right hip. All this accompanied by _Visenya's_ dagger at her waist, did nothing but reinforce that impression that Lyanna transmitted.

In his opinion, the Lya who had come to life more than two moons ago in the ravaged crypts of _Winterfell_ seemed more like a woman of legend, or the songs of the bards about historical heroines, than the wild, fiery and passionate teenager of whom he fall in love with, at the time of the Tourney.

 _'The Princess of the Free Folk, The Lady of Winter, The She-Wolf, the She-Wolf that tamed the Dragon… how many epithets will Lyanna have garnered among the Free Folk in little less than three weeks?'_ Rhaegar wondered.

Lya was now a woman capable of making any man fall in love with her, just as she might be capable of killing him with utter coldness if the safety of her family or hers were compromised.

Lya’s youthful beauty had given way to a more mature one beauty, perfecting her features. The youthful fat, now gave way to a velvety complexion, which looked like porcelain and gave her an ethereal beauty. After a small grow that has raised her above the meter seventy five, she has left behind the vagueness of adolescence, to give way to an increasingly slender woman's body with more pronounced curves on her hips and chest. Her long jet-black hair of yesteryear was now in a long braid that rested on her left shoulder, reaching down to her chest.

Despite her eighteen days of her name fulfilled less than two weeks ago, Rhaegar’s wife now possessed a trace of wisdom and a cold and hard look totally contrary to what her age would indicate.

Although far from that look of naivety, mischievous and full of illusion and hope that she had during the _Tourney_ , sometimes she still showed flashes of it. Especially when Lya played pranks on Arya, when she was alone with him, or when she got their son Aegon to open up to her and act like a son to his mother. On these occasions, Lya’s eyes, smoky silver of _Valyrian_ steel, now seemed to glow.

Lya's always exuberant personality had been tempered a bit, being less smiling and impulsive than before.

 _'But thanks to her interaction with the little ones and especially, since the meeting with Uncle Aemon before leaving Forlond, it seems that a gigantic weight had been lifted from Lya’s shoulders and she was beginning to live fully again.'_ Rhaegar was delighted inside as to think that maybe after all they have lived maybe they could have a happy life in this _new_ life.

This was something that Arya and Bran had undoubtedly contributed to, especially when the latter did not wore his role as _Branraven._ Thanks to their childlike innocence, their illusions and the vision that everything they were experiencing was like a great adventure, they often managed to reduce the tension and anguish of the enterprise they were carrying out.

However, when Arya showed the cold blood that she could have and the confidence in the damage she could do to another person, it caused that at times, she had nothing to envy Aegon's attitude.

 _'And with the pace of training and the hardness of the same that Egg puts us through every day that is possible, I have no doubt that Arya in less than a year will be lethal even against adult men in plate armor and chainmail. She has more speed than Egg, is small, has exceptional footwork and is left-handed like Lya. If we get her a true instructor in The Water Dance, she will surely be able to make a strainer on anyone who gets in her way, although in pitched battle I still have my doubts about her.’_ Rhaegar analyzed, as he rested his gaze on the bulge nestled between the wall and her brother Bran. The little one who in a short time had transformed into a kind of daughter to him.

Rhaegar did not want, could not, and did not intend to replace the figure of Eddard Stark. In the same way that Arya could not, nor wanted, nor did she intend to replace Rhaenys. However, a relationship developed between the two that could well be seen as a parent-child relationship, going beyond that of an uncle and his niece.

Bran, for his part, could be the most vital of the five who had started this journey, however, since whatever happened in that cave beyond the _Wall_ , there were times when his nephew and squire inspired real dread in him. The fact that Bran claimed to be Brandon _the Builder_ reborn _,_ or that he was an all-seeing being, was the least of it. The problem was the feeling that Bran seemed to know the lives and secrets of all those who had ever stepped on land in contact with a _Weirwood Tree._

 _'Just thinking about the Bran from a while ago in the house of Black and White makes a shiver run through my body. How does he invoke that terrifying voice of beyond the grave and by all the gods, how does he control the color and brightness of his only eye…?'_

_‘No. Better not think about Bran's powers and magic. He may not even know it himself, and if he does, I doubt he will tell us.’_

At least Bran is a great squire and a promising archer, although a true disaster wielding the sword _'To whom Bloodraven expressly yielded the Dark Sister until Bran deems it appropriate...and from what he has dropped about it, not even when the time comes, the sword will fall on my hands. Damn my luck that I will never be able to have a_ Valyrian _steel sword.'_ Rhaegar grumbled internally, observing the hilt of the long sword that he would like to have hanging from his left hip, but which was inert on the ground between the sacks where Bran rested his head.

As he watched the scene before him, with Lya who was about to climb the walls in exhaustion from waiting, while the kids were sleeping peacefully at her feet, Rhaegar couldn't help but get a big smile on his face.

 _‘I would die a hundred times more if it makes me stay with her for the rest of eternity.’_ Rhaegar affirmed to himself, as he drank from the image that Lyanna offered against the light of the tall chandeliers of the room.

Despite the uncertain future, full of dangers and possibilities of dying, Rhaegar thought to take advantage of his second chance in life, to love even more if that could be possible, his wife and mother of his only child, the latter at least for the moment. He was still unable to understand what he had done to deserve the unconditional love of his beloved, because in Rhaegar’s opinion he felt that Lya should hate him for all the pain that he caused her, directly or indirectly, with his actions.

 _'Or as Aegon has reiterated me every time he could, because of my inaction at key moments.'_ Rhaegar thought, recalling the conversations about the pre- _Rebellion era_ that he had had with his son. Thanks to the countless hours of conversation between them, Aegon had ceased to be a stranger and an absolute mystery to him.

Although without a doubt all that was possible thanks to the fact that they were able to air their differences. They probably did not do it in the most ordinary or most peaceful way, but in the end, it turned out to be absolutely effective.

Since the confrontation between the two of them and the immediately subsequent confrontation with the giant Umber, _Egg_ infused him with tremendous respect, great admiration, deep pride and enormous affection, perhaps only comparable to what Rhaegar felt at the time for Viserys or Rhaenys.

 _'Almost certainly we not have the parent-child relationship more traditional, nor possibly the most normal of history, but after two months I can say that my son loves me and is someone to be enormously proud of.'_ swelled his chest thinking about his _boy_.

 _'The secrets between the family, as well as keeping the opinions and doubts about the family members to oneself instead of expressing them openly between us, only favor dissension, confrontation and ultimately our death. It is not about knowing everything that goes through the head of the five of us, but it is about knowing everything that we think and feel towards each other. We are dragons and wolves, we must act as such. Let us not be petty to each other like our rivals in Westeros or Essos. Let's go head-on with what we believe in. Better a cut in time, than an infection that spreads throughout the body.'_ echoed in his head the words that his son Aegon pronounced before them after the _Fight of the Dragons_ in the ramshackle shed that once was the stables of the defunct _Eastwacth._

As he contemplated his son completely straight and undaunted before the stone banquet, with his impressive full armor, crowned by the _Valyrian_ steel band and rubies around _Egg’s_ fledgling mane that already reached his ears and with _Blackfyre_ girded on his back, Rhaegar couldn't help to think that it was difficult for him to contemplate Aegon in any other way than in the way he was observing him now. _'Like a conquering warrior.'_

Although both he and _Egg_ had garments that could certainly be worn on occasions like the one they were in, courtesy of his niece Sansa, after visiting the _Faceless Man they_ decided it was an unnecessary waste of time, so they continued to wear their armor and swords. This despite the fact that Rhaegar’s body asked him to shed once and for all the almost twenty kilos of weight that he had carried for more than three days and that at least in his case, made his shoulders and legs were beginning to numb.

 _'If we can gather enough Valyrian steel I need a breastplate and backplate like Egg's. It would surely make more bearable flying Vhagar for battle, not to mention that I could adapt the same fighting style my son has.'_ Rhaegar aimed internally, considering it a priority to achieve in the next six moons. After that period they would surely enter a maelstrom of endless successive battles, until they defeated or died in front of the _Others. 'If someone don't kill us first.'_ Rhaegar added internally with a certain chill to himself.

The newly forged relationship with Aegon, allowed the two to fine-tune the plans and schemes to be executed in the next five years, approximately. The entire construction of the project was based on ideas expressed by Aegon and himself in the first three days after the _ritual,_ but revised and improved.

Thanks to contributions from Uncle Aemon, Bran, Lya and even Arya, Ser Jaremy, the young Tarly and his brother-in-law Benjen Stark, had drawn up a plan in stages, which would allow them to proclaim themselves as sovereigns of a great extension of territory in short time frame. Said plans used the double oath as the backbone of everything, being the entity of the _Freehold of Valyria_ the common thread between those subjected to the double oath.

 _‘By creating an entity that indistinctly included subjects and Kingdoms, it's possible to maintain the feeling of independence and autonomy in the territories under Aegon's aegis, at the same time that the subjects who inhabited them were directly linked to House Targaryen in general and not liable to a vassal in particular.'_ In Rhaegar’s opinion, it was the ideal solution to eliminate the high nobility as an intermediary between the common people and the rulers. That is, them.

The fact that at that time the family was under the command of the same one who was taking the oath of the _Freehold,_ was an exception due to the situation they had to face. But in the future, this would prevent someone like his father or _The Cruel from_ holding power without question. The counterweight to the ruler of the _Freehold of Valyria_ , which being _Valyrian_ had to be yes or yes ruled by the only living descendants of Valyria, was the Targaryen family from which the aforementioned ruler would emerge.

This had allowed them to reach a conclusion about the possible development of their plans and shadow work that they had carried out and that still need to be carried out. This conclusion was that in between seven and eight moons after what happened in _Winterfell_ , after the events that occurred at the _Wall_ , after the acts that were carrying out that same day in _Braavos_ and those that were to take place in the next few weeks in the northwest of _Essos_ , all the world would know of the return of the _Dragons._ Both the legendary creatures, as the Targaryen and those of the Valyrian blood.

Therefore, it was necessary to raise a series of smoke screens and mummery actions, so that in Westeros their intentions would never be known for sure and that what the _Westerosi_ not adept at the Targaryen cause knew, was that their intentions were centered entirely in _Essos_ in pursuit of the reconstruction of the _Freehold._

In order to initiate and sustain such a large-scale farce, the direct and willing participation of _the Iron Bank_ was essential _._

Without their collaboration, or by eradicating them directly from the face of the earth, the difficulty of implementing the plans would grew enormously and with it the danger of death for them. That is why an active collaboration of the _bankers_ is essential. Uniting them to their cause, making them see that the best thing for their profits and business ventures was to bet on house Targaryen and the rebirth of the _Freehold of Valyria._

Ultimately, completely eliminating the _Iron Bank,_ although now was possible and relatively easy, would end up being counterproductive on the long run, since without those responsible for the _Braavosi_ banking entity _, they_ would lack their commercial and client network.

"Auuuf ..." Lyanna sighed wearily, pulling Rhaegar out of his inner thoughts. “Several hours have passed and we are still here waiting for these _seven damn_ _times_ bankers to come. It's already completely dark and we don't even have a place to spend the night. And I warn you one thing and it goes for both of you: I am not going to spend another night dozing on top, next to or under any kind of _Dragon.”_ His wife addressed him and their son in a rather exasperated and blunt way.

Rhaegar couldn't blame Lya for her exasperation. If it weren't for previous experience in negotiations with the _Iron Bank,_ he too would have lost his patience long ago. But Rhaegar knew that it was a common tactic of the _braavosi_ entity when it came to building a business relationship with potential clients.

_'The Keyholders of the Iron Bank have always believed themselves to be more intelligent than the rest of the men. It seems that because they control a large part of the Planetos wealth, it would makes them better than the rest.'_

"Mother do not despair, it is a common negotiation technique. Waiting provokes doubts, impatience and tends to make you lose your composure. In this way, when the negotiation starts, the party that has been waiting begins the meeting at a disadvantage, without the serenity and mental acuity necessary for the dialectical battle." _Egg_ responded in an educational and calm tone to his mother, turning around to place his gaze on the wall where Rhaegar and Lya were standing.

At Lya's feet, Rhaegar squire and his niece slept soundly. It seemed that after the adrenaline rush in the _House of Black and White_ , coupled with the three uninterrupted days on _Balerion's_ back, had taken their toll on the youngests of the family. Therefore Lya and he had agreed to let them rest until those responsible for the _Braavosi_ entity appeared _._ What they did not expect is that it would end up giving them time to take a long nap.

Aegon for his part, despite the display of power he had made hours before, had been standing for three hours in front of the large marble counter of the _Iron Bank_ , not been fazed by the wait. To be exact, since his son Aegon spoke cryptically with Bran about the pups and about if Bran felt _them_ in the vicinity, shortly after descending from the dragons in front of the monumental building, Egg had not uttered a single word until he had spoke to his mother.

At times it seemed as if his son was internally elsewhere, or even in dialogue with himself.

 _'I suppose that sharing his body with the Conqueror's soul in a way has the advantage that Aegon always has someone to talk to while maintaining the privacy of what is expressed. Because I have no doubt that in these hours of waiting we are being observed in detail through cracks in the walls.'_ Rhaegar reflected internally on why his son was so calm and serene, but on many occasions giving the impression that he was totally away from what was happening around him, unless it directly affected him or them.

Before Rhaegar could confirm what his son had just said in reference to the _Braavosi Bankers_ , Aegon seemed to return completely to the present and to the place where they were for first time since their entry in the stays, completely focusing his gaze on them, to continue what he had begun to explain.

“The _Keyholders_ would possibly lose a sword duel even with Bran, but their strength is in words and in the art of negotiation. _Braavosi_ usurers, since the _Century of Blood_ have been renowned for using words more effectively than weapons. It was said in Myr, that only a _Braavosi_ fishmonger is able to bargain better for a price, than a representative of _the Iron Bank.”_ said Aegon in a resigned voice, shrugging the shoulders.

 _'Certainly what Aegon knows of Braavos is not something he likes if I am guided by the tone and attitudes he uses. I wonder if the Conqueror had run-ins with the Iron Bank during the campaigns against Volantis. Taking into account that for my son it was fundamental and immovable that Braavos was the first destination after the Wall, some past between the two must exist_.' he thought, looking at his son's body attitude.

"Not to mention that they are tenacious negotiators, who always seek to win in any agreement that they are going to make." added Rhaegar to his son's explanation, confirming the impressions that he had previously transmitted. "When I came seventeen years ago to open the family account, they made me wait from noon until _the hour of the wolf_. If I didn't have a book on me, it would have been the most desperate wait of my life."

' _Even though I don't have the reasons that he possibly has, it doesn't mean I don't share Egg's opinion. Braavosis are generally petty, profitable usurers, capable of selling their mother for a higher return on their investments.’_ Rhaegar muttered internally.

“And for that reason we have to be here until these people feel like attending us?! Because something has always been like this, it doesn't have to stay like that!" Lyanna replied vehemently.

His wife, with her sudden mood swings and increased fire behind her words and actions, clearly showed the symptoms of what neither of them dared to discuss yet. _'And if I needed more evidence, the morning sickness from a few days ago practically confirms my suspicions'_

Rhaegar had suspicions that before leaving _Forlond_ Lya's consultation with her Uncle Aemon was related to the matter. But neither his uncle nor his wife said a word to him. ‘ _Possibly Egg will have also sensed that his mother is hiding something, although at no time has he made reference to his doubts ...'_

"It has always been this way since the days we freed ourselves from the yoke of the _Dragon Lords,_ and it will continue to been so long after you and your family can do something to us." A voice came curtly and sharply from the door behind the stone seats, immediately returning Rhaegar to the business that had kept them waiting for several hours: Seizing the _Iron Bank, preferably_ without spilling blood.

The voice belonged to a man about forty-five days of his name, wearing a long green robe. Slim, dark-eyed, and sporting a black beard streaked with gray. He lowered the head as he walked, his voice soft and heavy from the Braavosi tongue. 

"[ _Noho Dimittis is my name, welcome to the Iron Bank.]_ "

After the man who had spoken, three other men appeared, although the last one was not at all like those who preceded him.

The _Keyholder_ who had called himself Noho Dimittis took his seat first in the central place. He was dressed in a luxurious green myrish velvet tunic, with various gold thread motifs engraved on the sleeves and finished in a wide, high, fully gilded neck, making it appear that his head was on a gold tray. He was of medium height and of advanced age judging by the sparse hair and gray that he painted on what was still left, but still in full physical condition. He looked sour or had been eating lemons. And the look of contempt he shot Lyanna with those cold, brown eyes was not at all lost on Rhaegar.

To the right of Dimittis sat a tremendously obese man of low height and about forty days of his name, who was able to cover the immense support of the stone armchair.

 _"[Bessaro_ _Reyaan is the mine.]"_ The round _Braavosi_ said in a nasal bastard Valyrian as he bowed his head very slightly over his double chin, as a greeting.

Emeralds embroidered on the immense breast forming the shape of the sigil of the _Iron Bank_. The man, despite his physical appearance, had a certainly smiling face and a clean sincere blue gaze that conveyed curiosity and boredom in equal measure. The plumpness of his face was only accentuated by the total absence of hair and a bald spot that seemed polished, where sweat beaded.

' _I imagine this man will be out of air for a brief displacement. I am sure that he doesn’t climb daily the infinite steps that led to this room, or he would certainly not be here. Long ago it would have been replaced by another Keyholder, which were alive_.' thought Rhaegar internally with certain sarcasm.

 _'I will definitely have to comment on that to Lya later. She's going to be laughing till midnight. And maybe she will forget that we will have to doze off to the side of the dragons.'_ Rhaegar sighed deeply through his nose, thinking about the reaction of Lyanna to having to spend another night sleeping with the dragons.

_'It was one thing to do it in the North close to the Wall, but if even I who am a Targaryen am starting to get fed up with the heat, Lyanna who goes on top of me and is especially sensitive to heat, surely she can't take it anymore. And it's not cold in Braavos ...'_

Complaining about the heat and feeling a tug inside Rhaegar’s head was something simultaneous, indicating that Vhagar was being exceptional witness of all of his internal monologue and was beginning to think that if Rhaegar was so fed up with the heat, maybe he would prefer not to be bonded to him.

 _'Quiet. Don't be so touchy. I was just making an observation. You will be fire made flesh, but think that I am not. Three days on you is a wonderful experience, but there comes a point that even a Targaryen has enough heat.'_ Rhaegar addressed internally to the dragon with whom he had bonded two moons ago _._

This was something that little by little Rhaegar managed to have as something normal and part of his _second_ _life_. Although at times it still seemed to him that he was going mad for directing to himself and knowing that a being of legend with more than sixty meters of wingspan and ten tons of weight, listened to him and understood him perfectly. _'In fact, according to Egg, until the day I die, the dragon will know everything that goes through my mind and will respond to that.'_

Turning his attention back to the gathering, Rhaegar could see that the last to sit down was the tall, thin man with a haggard face from which a long, thin white beard fell almost to his waist. He was dressed in a rather understated purple robe trimmed with ermine and a high collar.

 _'Tycho Nestoris. With whom I negotiated the opening of the family account '_ He remembered quickly being able to recognize the features on the face of the banker.

 _"[Nestoris, Tycho. Although I think we know each other, Your Excellency.]”_ presented himself Nestoris in a perfect High Valyrian that had nothing to envy Rhaegar’s own.

 _'Showing that they have undoubtedly heard everything we have talked about. The High Valyrian that in Westeros, except for the descendants of Valyria, was not used and hardly known by anyone, in Essos has more roots. It will almost be better from now on to speak in the Common Tongue and show as we do not know any form of Valyrian.'_ Rhaegar thought with a certain bitter aftertaste that the method that allowed them to have parallel conversations in front of anyone in the _Wall_ without the people around them really knowing what they said couldn't be used anymore, or at least not as effectively.

In the background against the wall, the fourth man who had entered the room and who had made no attempt to introduce himself remained standing.

Although was obese, he did not reach the extremes of the _Keyholder_ who sat opposite to Rhaegar’s left. In addition, the clothes of the man against the wall clothes were much more extravagant and ostentatious than those of the three members of the bank who had taken their seats at the marble counter.

 _'For the amount of jewels, rings and riches he is wearing. Coupled with his eminently Braavosi aspect I would say is the Sealord or a magister of the elective council to the same.'_ analyzed Rhaegar, watching who would be their partners.

They had no plans to contact the leader of the free city so soon, but _'who were they to miss the opportunity to kill two birds with the same stone?'_

“Your visit is quite a surprise to us, Crown Prince Rhaegar. We have heard about your brother and sister, Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys Targaryen. But your sudden reappearance among the world of the living is a surprise even to us. We thought that everyone who died remained dead. But hey, another surprise and something new to learn. Now tell us, why did _His Excellency come_ to our humble institution?" asked sarcastically Dimittis.

The mention of his brother and sister, the latter whom Rhaegar did not even know, for a moment distracted him. But he remembered that he might know what they were hiding after the negotiation was over.

“It is logical for a client to go to check the status of his savings, right? Although you surely already knew that.” Rhaegar answered the question with a sly voice but with a grim and serious expression, at the same time that he crossed his arms over his chest.

Without giving them time to answer, nor to ask who his companions were, in case they still did not know or had joined the pieces, Rhaegar extended his right arm and pointing with the index he addressed the only one of the three bankers with whom he had dealt .

"Tell me Nestoris, how are the personal vaults of house Targaryen? Has Robert Baratheon been granted permission to plunder them as well as the _Seven Kingdoms?"_ he said in a voice of iron, linked to the disgust that his voice let go of every syllable.

A silent hiss could be heard from the _supposed_ _Sealord_ after Rhaegar had said those words. Rhaegar read the disgust that permeated Bessaro's expression, while Dimittis addressed him with an open frown. Nestoris seemed simply amused by the notion that the _Iron Bank would_ allow such a thing.

"Robert Baratheon's _Hand_ has repeatedly tried to access your family's personal vaults, but we are not just any institution. We are _the Iron Bank_ of Braavos. Therefore, your family's fall from grace never had an influence on the strict policies of _the Iron Bank to_ protect the wealth of its honored clients." The _Braavosi_ banker Nestoris said with pride in his serious voice.

"And that Means?" Rhaegar asked with some sarcasm.

“That _his Excellency_ savings are as they were before _his Grace_ , Aerys the second of his name, lost his crown. The vaults _of the Iron Throne_ , on the other hand ... that's a completely different story." Replied Nestoris.

"They’re empty." Rhaegar guessed immediately when the braavosis brought up the subject. They probably intended to place Robert's debt on them. "It's not like that?"

"They’re not just empty." Nestoris said with a certain humor in his tone, as he stroked his beard. "The _Iron Throne_ has accumulated a great deal of debt during the reign of Robert Baratheon."

“How much is deposited in our coffers and how much does the _Iron Throne_ owe _?”_ Rhaegar asked dryly. He was not going to _play_ the _game_ that the banker with whom he had opened his accounts almost eighteen years ago was trying to introduce him.

_'If memory serves me, there should be roughly two and a half million Golden Dragons, the tiaras of the Baelor sisters, my gold band crown, jewels, books and manuscripts.'_

Taking a small scroll from his sleeve, evidencing that they knew at least who Rhaegar was beforehand, Nestoris began to read a series of numbers that were undoubtedly the balance of Rhaegar’s savings.

“Two and a half million _Golden Dragons_. Half a million fewer than what the _Iron Throne_ owes, but it is something that we could let go of in exchange for that when _your Excellence_ is _seated again_ in the seat that belongs to him, _His Grace_ remembers who helped him to return to it.” Nestoris announced in a friendly voice and an attitude that conveyed that the _Iron Bank_ would see _the option_ of changing the King in _Westeros well._

The two colleagues of the banker and the supposed _Sealord_ were impatient and expectant for Rhaegar’s next words. Aegon was still in his place in front of the counter, but was being totally ignored by the bankers who had their full attention on Rhaegar.

His son's attitude was impassive and totally neutral. But in Aegon’s eyes, thanks to two moons day and night with him, you could see the reflection that he enjoyed when he was underestimated or taken for granted because of _Egg’s_ adolescent appearance.

 _'He adopts the attitude of a fox in a chicken coop. Or should it be that of a dragon before any animal lair_?' Rhaegar thought jokingly within himself.

Stepping forward and a step behind and to _Egg's_ right, in a totally deliberate act that showed Rhaegar’s position, he glanced up at the wall that until a few moments before had served as a backrest for his back.

Lyanna was tapping the awakening children with her right leg as she repositioned her dark gray cloak, wrapping it around the leather breastplate and around the waist, like a crossed headdress.

Lya pushed herself away from the wall a couple of feet and proceed to step a couple of steps behind Aegon, straight and tense, her gaze locked on the bankers.

His wife's attitude was quickly emulated by Arya, who proceeded to stand to the left of her aunt and as her, performed the same maneuver that Lya had done earlier with her cloak.

 _'There are times when Arya looks like a miniature version of Lya. They are two drops of water really.'_ He reflected when Rhaegar appreciated the one together with the other, in similar postures, with the same hairstyle and the same clothing.

Rhaegar’s squire, Bran, was the last to arrive at his place, which was none other than behind Aegon and Rhaegar’s back. His banner-cloak had been girded the same way as his sister and aunt, showing the white dragon on his breast, whose scarlet-red flame rose up to Bran’s right shoulder. His long hair completely laid over the left side of Bran’s face, hiding the eye socket and the tear of blood. The remaining eye offered the deep turquoise color that it showed when Bran was actually present on the site, as himself and not as one of his alter-egos.

Everything was ready, it was time to make up for the defeat at the _Trident's_ , or at least reap a great victory, even if it was not a military battle in this case.

 _'Egg relies on my persuasion and diplomacy to carry it out. He himself asked me to be the one to take the lead in the negotiation. I can't fail him.'_ Rhaegar swore to himself.

Regardless of whether the final decision that Rhaegar was responsible for negotiating with the Braavos entity was due to Aegon’s confidence in his ability, or that Aegon's diplomacy was similar to Bran's skill with a sword and would possibly end up laying waste the building with all the bankers inside, rather than getting their help.

Clearing his voice first and while outlining a half smile, at the same time he was casting a cold look at his counterparts. Rhaegar spoke in a cold but low voice, the phrase that would allow them to conquer _Essos_ without shedding large amounts of blood, or turn their campaigns into a veritable bloodbath.

“It seems to me that you are wrong. We did not come to ask for a loan, or to pay another’s one loan, or to withdraw the gold from my accounts, the which I do not understand why yourselves did not give it to my brother and sister when you heard about them. No. My family and I have come to propose you an offer that you cannot refuse and that will enrich you infinitely."

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

“Right now, yourselves will have about thirty million gold coins in your vaults and another thirty million distributed in various loans, loans on seconds and businesses. Is that so?" Rhaegar stated more than he asked, trusting that the numbers performed between him and young Tarly at _Barad Suvion [1]_ were correct.

 _'If I have overestimated the ability to generate wealth that they have, our own calculations and future projects will have to be totally revised. However if I have underestimated their purchasing power and savings, they may see our plan as contrary to their interests. I hope not to fail. I need it to go well, both to make up for my past, and to show my son that I can also carry the burden of the power.’_ Rhaegar thought internally as he observed how the three _Keyholders_ approached each other to whisper something, which was imperceptible from the place he and his son were in.

“We don't know how your Excellence found out, but yes. The numbers you handle about us are correct. What does that have to do with your open account in our entity?" Dimittis asked dryly, his voice showing a hint of trembling and uncertainty.

The banker's colleagues had expressions that could be called as of disbelief and surprise behind the stone facade they displayed. The one with the most expressions so far, save for Dimittis' barely restrained hostility, was the fat man in colorful clothing that Rhaegar assumed was the _Sealord._

 _'And his face reflects curiosity and business opportunity in equal measure. It seems that at least we will get out of here today with the support of the politic leadership of the city.'_ Rhaegar rejoiced internally, while analyzed the situation and attitudes of those present.

Rhaegar’s bodily attitude, until that moment relaxed, gave way to one of tension and rectitude. The gaze fixed on the three bankers. With his metallic and harmonic voice, once so renowned in _The Seven Kingdoms_ , Rhaegar decided to explain exactly the reason for his presence and that of his family in the Braavosi institution.

"It has nothing to do with it. But I reiterate, we do not come in relation to the account opened by house Targaryen. We have come because we are going to acquire and be the owners of _the Iron Bank,_ to rename it and make it mint and the minting house of the new _Freehold of Valyria._ Once this _formality is completed_ , _yourselves_ will continue to manage it on _our behalf_ and _for us.”_ Rhaegar replied with total seriousness and without a tremor in his voice.

“Excuse me, _Your Excellency,_ but are you kidding us? I understand that coming back from the dead can be a difficult experience to digest and especially considering the history of your family ... But be clear about one thing: that you have dragons again, it does not give you any right or power to claim ownership of something that is not yours! Bring us a hundred and fifty million in gold coins and maybe we could start discussing the possible partition of the property,” Dimittis answered abruptly, who could hardly contain himself.

The strident, vitriolic tone exuded a hatred for them that was almost palpable. Dimittis’ brow furrowed, his mouth gaping open with a clenched jaw. Arms and hands outstretched on the black marble counter. Everything in the banker's attitude conveyed hatred towards what just had heard and therefore towards Rhaegar’s person in particular and his family in general.

The banker who for now seemed the head of the entity, or at least the one in charge of carrying the weight of the negotiation, was showing open hostility towards Rhaegar’s presence in _the bank_ from the beginning and was making this known, trying to put them uncomfortable from his first word. Now however, it was not just hatred that spoke trough his mouth. Dimittis pride, which had betrayed him, also spoke.

"Ehem" interrupted with a dry cough his son to Rhaegar’s left. Aegon remained fully upright and tense, giving the impression of being at least two feet taller than Rhaegar, when his son was actually half a foot shorter.

Aegon's serious but serene face showed not a single fissure. It was impossible to know what was going through Rhaegar’s son's head. Egg’s eyes to a stranger seemed fixed on infinity, showing the silver and purple glow on a black background to which those close to Aegon were so accustomed.

But if you knew the looks of Aegon, you could know that the look Aegon now had in those moments was not an absent or disinterested one. No. _Egg's_ eyes at that time did not convey annoyance at allusions to the _madness_ of house Targaryen, or anger at the more than subtle insult referred to them by the circumstances that had returned them to the world of the living.

His son's eyes shone like those of a child who is getting a present for his name day. The purple streaks in _Egg’s_ eyes seemed to emit discharges of light thanks to the contrast with the silver veins that crossed his black irises.

 _'And is not for less! They have already set a price. Now is the time for they to accept how they are going to get it. It is also about a hundred and fifty million less than what we had estimated they would ask for.'_ Rhaegar thought with some internal excitement, but showing just as impassive as Aegon, trying not to show that they had the _Keyholders_ where they wanted them.

“[ _It seems to me, dear Noho, Tycho and Bessaro, that you have not fully understood my father, His Excellency Rhaegar Targaryen. We, that is, my mother, Her Excellency Lyanna Targaryen, my sister Her Excellency Arya Stark and my brother and squire, His Excellency Brandon Stark, are going to make yourselves an irreplaceable offer. An offer which will make those one hundred and fifty million gold coins that you’ve ask for half of your organization seem like a joke._ ]" Aegon began to say to the _Keyholders in_ front of them, to pause in his speech. His tone was warm and persuasive, yet with steel in it.

Aegon spoke with the confidence of one who can endorse with actions what he says. Something that had not gone unnoticed by the bankers, in the same way that the surname of Arya and Bran did not go unnoticed, before which they showed a hint of surprise on their almost permanent neutral faces

“[ _We, with our dragons and thanks to your contacts and financial influence, are going to bring the economies of almost two continents directly under our control. Through your business with the leading elites of the Free Cities, you will be in charge of bringing them closer to our project. If by tomorrow evening the Keyholders have not decided to generously assign their ownership of the entity to us through a contract signed in the presence of the elective council of Keyholders and Magistrates to the Bank and the Sealord , we will ensure that the next elected Keyholders will do it. It's not about if the Iron Bank is going to be ours or not. What we are dealing with in this negotiation is whether it will be ours under yourselves direction or, under a new and renovated direction, more in tune with us, the new owners of this entity._ ]" Aegon sentenced in a way that implied that each of his words was true and the threat behind them, a security.

Bessaro and Nestoris looked at each other as if curious, however before either of them could address them or Dimittis, the latter seemed to have received a slap and it had not done him well at all. The neutral face had given way to one decomposed with rage.

“[ _Do you think you can scare us with threats, boy? Do you think that you with your fancy sword and fancy armor and your dragon from the legends can do something that not even the old Freehold could do? Who are you that in all this time you have not spoken and not even have you been introduced? The only son Rhaegar Targaryen had was killed by a Westerlands knight during the sack of King's Landing. So unless we are facing another divine return to life on the part of the dead, cut the talk and let your elders speak.]"_ Dimittis concluded, fixing his browed gaze on his son's face, trying to intimidate him.

Although seeing the mischievous half smile that began to draw on _Egg’s_ lips, but that did not reach his eyes, the effect produced by the Braavosi banker had been anything but the one he intended.

_“[I am Aegon Targaryen, the Dragon. My dragon is not just some creature from the legends, it is The Black Dread. My sword is Blackfyre, and only with this fancy armor I could buy the Free City of Braavos if I wanted to. Surely these references sound like those three hundred years ago to your institution, or am I wrong? I thought that after forgiving this city for its covert alliance with Volantis, they would remember the magnanimity of House Targaryen. But it seems that they have lost all respect for us, so I will reiterate a warning one last time.]"_

_Balerion's_ roar _capped Egg's_ words _,_ echoing through the monumental building until it trembled to its cyclopean foundations.

"[ _We are giving yourselves only one option: join us and help us create a new world, or perish in the ashes of the old_.]" concluded Aegon the declaration of intent by his winged mount. The gaze previously seemingly lost in the distance, had given way to a predator on its prey. Aegon’s eyes closed fully on the central figure behind the counter, who seemed to have lost all his bravado.

' _I finally understand why Aegon’s obsession with the Iron Bank. These were behind the Essosi war of Volantis during the Century of Blood. War that according to Aegon, was a thousand times more bloodier than the Conquest and all because of Volantis's desire to settle in a place that did not belong to them. Or at least that claims Aegon. I imagine that with the Conqueror obsession with the reestablishment of Valyria, the Dragon must not have been amused that some fugitives from the Freehold supported a colony of this one to seize power throughout the continent. And all this, with the slavery business in the background.'_

Rhaegar processed the new information he had acquired about his son's past life. _'Life of which Aegon hardly speaks. Except for events known to everyone, or about what the Conqueror's sisters were like, we hardly knew anything about the two and twenty days of his name that Egg had passed in the Dragon's body.'_

Despite that, they could infer it based on certain comments or individual memories that Aegon was saying in some moments. Thanks to these comments and memories, especially his brother-in-law Benjen, Bran and Rhaegar himself, had been able to see glimpses of the _Dragon_ before them and episodes of the same one life.

This was something that Arya had not yet fully assimilated well, since according to her claim, she was the person who knew _Jon the best._ Seeing Arya with a surprised face at gestures and attitudes of her cousin, was immediately accompanied by a look of sadness and loss in the direction that Aegon was not looking. _‘Lya should talk to her and explain that now her brother carried a load on his shoulders that did not allow him to be the same as before_.’

Although Rhaegar really thought that after so long in the skin of the _Conqueror_ , the _Jon_ that the Starks knew prior to the _Visenya’s_ ritual, was totally dead.

 _'In a way Egg killed the boy in him during those two and twenty days of his name within the soul of the Conqueror. He became a man from the role of one of the most influential men in the history of Planetos. For Arya's sake I hope that she is able to mature just as quickly as Bran, albeit without blood magic rituals involved. If not it could become a problem. No matter how changed he is, I doubt that it feels good to Egg to know that his little sister no longer sees him with the same eyes.'_ Rhaegar thought with some fear that the two would grow apart.

Although Aegon claimed to have seven and thirty days of the name, Rhaegar found it difficult to shake off parental protectionism. And without a doubt he would try to avoid the suffering of his son, which was, together with Lya, his motivation to continue forward.

In a way, Rhaegar and his son formed a tandem in which _Egg_ wielded the stick and Rhaegar the carrot. If that approach didn't work first, then it was Bran's turn to instill real panic in the hearts of the other negotiating side. A few words from his nephew and squire could make the most impassive of men tremble like jelly. Rhaegar thought about the possible course of the negotiations that were taking place. However his son brought him back to the present.

“Father, if you have the pleasure, you could continue with your explanation to our audience. You had stayed in how we will do to skyrocket their benefits.” Aegon said warmly as he turned to give him an affectionate look and extended the arms in the direction of the _Bankers._

Clearing his voice, Rhaegar mentally returned to what was at hand. Putting his most _aristocratic_ and confident voice, he continued with what was about to happen. _'There is no room for doubt. The first who have to be convinced of the success of this company are us. We cannot allow anyone to perceive doubt about our plans.'_

"Through the establishment of nine provinces in _Essos,_ the already established province of _Tar Nu Fuin_ astride of the _Wall_ in the _North_ of _Westeros,_ the fold of the latter _kingdom_ to my son Aegon and the future but inevitable return of House Targaryen to its rightful place on the _Iron Throne,_ we will recreate the old _Freehold of Valyria_. However, this will not have this slavery and will be a common entity, where there will be no subjects, or nobility as it is conceived now. There will be equal citizens before the laws and justice, working to improve what will be known from now on as _the Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_."

Without giving time for them to reply, making a gesture with his raised right hand, Rhaegar continued with the explanation “House Targaryen and the _Freehold will_ acquire all the productive and extractive means between the _Westerlands_ in Westeros and Qarth in Essos, between the _Wall_ and the _Lands of Eternal Summer_. Thanks to us, your organization will be fortunate enough to manage all of this, putting the exploitation and commercialization in the hands of the new management of the _Free Bank of Valyria."_

"How is it that your _Conquest_ and wars are going to bring benefits to our institution?" Nestoris asked with real interest.

“You will take care of all trade on both continents and beyond. You will have the sole and tax-free monopoly in the exploitation of natural resources considered as belonging to the _Freehold._ Yourselves will be able to direct the market, control merchandise traffic, guide purchases and optimize the production of handicrafts and luxury materials." Rhaegar paused for the bankers before him to think only of the benefit of what they were offering.

Rhaegar knew that greed was the best weapon to negotiate with the _Braavosi_ entity and this meeting was based on exploiting it. So it was time to finish awakening their instincts for business.

"You will have total control of the economy in all territory under the dominions _of the Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_ and only the council of house Targaryen will be able to veto or alter your decisions on economic and commercial matters." Rhaegar’s last words addressed to the three bankers as to the _Sealord,_ whose eyes had been opened like plates, served to show the magnitude of the business they could dominate.

The _Keyholders_ continued with the same unflappable facade, but the greed for the potential benefits should the adventure go well, could be seen clearly in their gazes.

“Yourselves will also be in charge of collecting taxes and conducting the _Freehold_ census _._ Said taxes may be used to amortize any expense without profit return that will be made. In this way, in approximately five years, we believe that the _Free Bank of Valyria_ would monopolize a commercial and savings market of around between three hundred and three hundred and fifty million in gold coins.” Rhaegar outlined some of the functions that the _Free Bank_ would have from now on _._

Without a doubt, the census would be a measure that would cost to be established and accepted, but if the _Bank_ was able to exert pressure on their clients and to be the recipients of the taxes instead of the rulers of the cities, dominions or kingdoms, much of the coin that was lost in the collection, now would go to the coffers of the _Free Bank,_ therefore, to the _Freehold._

“Together with all this, we estimate that we will need to mint and put into circulation during the next twelve moons, approximately between fifty and one hundred million coins of gold that will be called _Gold Dragons_ , as well as another hundred million in a new currency with greater _weight_ than the _silver Stag_ , to be called the _Silver Wolf_. In the same way, you will mint five hundred million copper coins that will be called _copper Suns._ Yourselves should use tin in the alloy of the minor coins and silver in the gold coins.”

"What is the objective of such an investment? With such an amount of coin circulating there will be rich people who will cease to be rich at that moment…” Dimittis tried to cut him off, but Rhaegar was starting to get fed up with the little uni-browed man, so he fixed the coldest gaze he was capable of invoking on the braavosi and finished the reason for such wealth creation.

“The objective of this coin injection in the economy of both continents is for the bank to end up having a business base of approximately two hundred and fifty million gold dragons and its equivalent in silver currency. When creating great supply and demand, it is necessary to establish a base from which the supply demand can be covered. Without circulating currency, there would not be as much demand, therefore, supply would shrink, in turn shrinking demand, in an infinite cycle. If the demand has the coin backing to be covered, the supply shoots up, increasing production and the same demand, since those who produce earn more and more coin, which they spend on supply. That virtuous cycle is what the proposed currency injection will create."

"And how does _Your Excellency_ suggest that we practically double our minting capacity and from where will come a market capable of reporting annual profits of almost four hundred million in gold coin?" the fat banker to Dimittis' right asked in total disbelief.

“The hills and mountains northeast and northwest of _Qohor_ and the Andal Hills have the largest known mineral deposits. There’s also the Norvosis hills…From there we will extract those minerals for yourselves to use as…”

Rhaegar tried to explain from where they were going to get gold, silver, tin, iron and other minerals that they were going to need on a large scale in the next five years, but Aegon interrupted him dryly and coldly, probably tired of them having to explain themselves. Putting his right arm on Rhaegar’s chest in a gesture that showed that it was not worth continuing with the explanation, Aegon gave him a look of affection but that showed that he was tired of turning so much and having to explain something that, without a doubt, they would have to explain again tomorrow.

“[ _That is your mission and that is why we are going to allow yourselves not only to preserve yours life, but also yours position in the management and direction of the new Free Bank of Valyria. You must knew beforehand, that as the new treasury and mint of the Freehold of Valyria, you will invest at least sixty million gold dragons to meet the commitment of one gold dragon per year per citizen or subject of the Freehold. We will provide all what you need._ _If then you don't know how to do what we ask of you, that will be a problem for the next bank management and not mine._ ] _”_ Rhaegar’s son voice reverberated in _High Valyrian_ through the long room.

Rhaegar’s son's tact when negotiating was of course, a little to extreme, but sometimes it served as a great incentive to convince the other side that it was better to be with them than against them. Rhaegar for his part was content with his role as diplomat and _voice_ of the _Freehold._ Being the second in command, Rhaegar could allow himself to appear more benevolent than _Egg,_ something that was also in line with his way of proceeding politically before his death at his cousin’s hammer.

Seeing that both, father and son, had the full attention of the bankers, Rhaegar proceeded to finish laying out the plans on which the conquest would be based. The way they would control the _citizens_ under their _Domains_.

“For all this, a census will be carried out, which will be fundamental for the administration of the _Freehold of Valyria_ , being the decisive factor when it comes to access to _the Provincial Council or the Council of the Freehold,_ which will be the elective bodies, in the manner of which have you here in _Braavos_ or in the _Night's Watch_ and that will serve as a link between the lord of the _Freehold,_ house Targaryen and the different provinces and kingdoms subjects of the domain." Rhaegar explained while he accessed with his right hand the bag that hung from the belt on his back from the waist, hidden behind his cloak. He extracted the rolled parchment that had been reworked over and over again, in order to write down the precise way in which the _Freehold of Valyria_ will be work _._

Taking a couple of steps towards the counter, but without exceeding his son's position, Rhaegar placed the scroll on the front of the counter, where would also force the bankers to get up from their seats to grab it.

"In this parchment everything is detailed *****" he said with a smile, after which he turned and retraced his steps. Lya and Arya gave Rhaegar looks of affection and pride, while Arya raised her left hand slightly, raising her thumb, as a sign of congratulation and that he had achieved what they wanted.

As Rhaegar turned and looked back at the bankers, he could see that the scroll had been spread out in the center, right in front of Dimittis. It was being watched by the three bankers who were now leaning over the counter. Even the obese man in colorful clothing had positioned himself behind Dimittis's seat from where he could no doubt see the written contents.

After a few minutes, Rhaegar considered that they had already had time to digest what was written in his own handwriting, so with a close tone and with a certain humor, he finished explaining some things.

“I imagine that you will enter the first census class, which will allow you to retain your position in the management, since from tomorrow night the _Free Bank of Valyria_ is part of the administration of the _Freehold._ However, as you will understand, the first two categories will not receive any salary when performing as magistrates.” finished accompanied with a smile on his face.

“To achieve this census, you will be assisted by the new _Citadel of Knowledge_ that we have created on _Barad Suvion_ under the organization and direction of Prince Aemon Targaryen. They will create a file with each and every one of the people who acquires, or has acquired, the citizenship of the _Freehold._ By signing the citizenship contract and taking the double oath to House Targaryen and the _Freehold of Valyria_ they must be registered and therefore be subject to the census. Special representatives of your institution will swell the ranks of the administrative apparatus of each province. In each army regiment there will be a member of the institution as a payor and stipendiary.”Aegon contributed with a tone and attitude less threatening than in his previous intervention, but with coldness and steel in his voice and attitude. The gaze was still that of a dragon playing with its prey.

“How do you propose that we do a census on such a vast scale? If we accept your offer, the first thing is that we do not have enough personnel for such dispersion. The second is that not everyone is willing to allow themselves to be audited, even less by our institution. And finally, do you realize that what yourselves propose is not only to know the wealth of every person who is under your power, but to completely change the productive and social system of hal of the world? If I understand well what yourselves have told us and you achieve what have planned, we are talking about the fact that between fifty-five and sixty million people will have their lives regulated and compartmentalized by yourselves and the administration of the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros."_ Nestoris told them, addressing both _Egg_ as to him.

Nestoris certainly seemed to like the plan, but had doubts about its feasibility. Unlike his colleagues, Nestoris's attitude and gaze was totally receptive, without any hostility. Although since Aegon's intervention and after understanding the depth and scale of what they intended, Nestoris showed some respect, and even some fear.

"We realize. We are fully aware of this and if we come to a happy agreement, we will be able to explain to you exactly why this measure, which seems extreme, will be very necessary in the not too distant future. Anyway, yourselves are the _Iron Bank_ , or were. Claim your debts and see where your debtor's wealth comes from. I have no doubt that they will seek to the last being with wealth to be able to pay their debts, doing part of your future work. Follow the coins and you will have a large part of the census done." Aegon sentenced in the voice that Lya called the _Conqueror's voice_. It was a tone that did not admit of discussion and that compelled to comply with what it said.

“And tell me _Your Grace,_ those savages from beyond the _Wall_ who, according to you, are _citizens_ of your _Reborn Freehold of Valyria,_ have they knelt before you in submission and recognition? If I remember correctly, they live on the other side of the _Wall_ due to the fact that they do not kneel before anyone. _Not even before His Grace himself_ when _conquered_ the lands beyond the _Narrow Sea_ , if that is possible. Although it seems that today is a day that defies the possible, do not agree _Your Grace?”_ Dimittis asked Egg with disgust and scorn. His son saw the change in Dimittis's attitude and tone, and for a moment Rhaegar thought that Aegon was about to laugh.

The irony and contempt in Dimittis's voice, as well as the giggles Bessaro let out, when inadvertently or knowingly Dimittis correctly identified his son with the _Conqueror_ of _Westeros,_ seemed to amuse Aegon more than annoy him _._

 _'If Dimittis knew that with his irony he is referring to him by the due title he would bite his tongue. His hostility towards us has caused his pride to shine and without knowing it, he is totally entering the game that we had raised. And the fat man is earning a fate similar to Dimittis. Possibly if Nestoris is sincere, he will end up being the future magistrate of the Bank.'_ concluded Rhaegar when analyzing the men before them.

“I'm glad you asked me that, _dear Noho._ It turns out that after a run-in with a now-deceased wildling clan leader called _Rattleshirt_ , in which he threatened my brother, here _His Excellency_ Brandon Stark, I had to have a conversation with the different tribal and clan leaders of _beyond the Wall._ After hearing my generous offer, they accepted that a better life was possible south of the _Wall._ Therefore they decided to take the double oath and sign the contract. According to the latest count, around 103,000 _citizens_ of the _Freehold_ of _Valyria_ now reside in the province of _Tar Nu Fuin."_ Aegon explained, planting a fake smile on his face, which did not hide, nor did try to hide the disgust the _Keyholder_ was causing Rhaegar’s son _._

"And what was that generous offer?" _Bessaro_ asked in a tone that was genuinely curious.

Shrugging his shoulders and in a totally casual way, Rhaegar’s son, Aegon, responded to the question. "In short: Join me, or I will end all of you, whether be old people, women, children or men, in less than fifteen minutes." said Aegon with total normality and as if it were something ordinary.

The silence that ensued after those words could have been broken by a pin falling in the room. ‘ _Although now we of us know perfectly well that at no time did he intend to destroy all the Free Folk, these men do not need to know. At least for now. IF they think we are capable of that, they will no doubt think twice before betraying us. Not to mention that the idea was not from Egg, but from Branraven.'_

“In fact one of its leaders, Tormund _Giantsbane,_ told me that if I had asked them to kneel they would not have accepted the offer and they would have tried to assassinate us, but that an oath in exchange for hopes south of the _Wall_ and options for a new life as _equals_ to the rest of the world, it was all advantages to them. They are a peculiar people for sure..."said Aegon, breaking the moment of tension, while raising an eyebrow looking sideways at Lya and Arya who were looking at Aegon with the face of suppressing laughter at the euphemism that Rhaegar’s son had just said in consideration to _the Free Folk._

“Even so, the occasional one bent the knee before me, but the point is that I don't care if yourselves believe who I am or who we are. I don't care if you think it's impossible to do what we've already done and what we're going to do. Tomorrow night we will return to see yourselves and your fellows _Keyholders_ and _magistrates,_ to know your decision." Aegon continued with a tone of steel and now a totally tense and with threatening attitude.

“But I warn you one thing. If any of you, or someone on your behalf or on behalf of the institution, tries to do something to my family or me, can you be sure that tomorrow night the terms of the negotiation will not be as generous as they have been today. Remember. _Free Bank of Valyria_ with yourselves three where you are now, giving your best to meet our objectives, or there will be three others sitting where you are, the day after tomorrow, at the headquarters of the new _Free Bank_ of Valyria. Have a good night and see yourselves tomorrow."

After that Aegon made an exaggerated bow to the _Keyholders_ , turned his heels and headed towards the golden door through which they previously entered, followed by Arya, Lya, Bran and finally, Rhaegar was left before the three _Keyholders_ and the fat man standing behind them.

 _“[Dear Tycho, Bessaro and Dimittis_ _, I imagine you have a lot to think about and some things to put in order before you can answer us. Tomorrow before dark we will meet here again in the presence of the remaining Keyholders and the Magistrates. I hope you know what is the best decision for you and your organization. And although I think it is not necessary to be repetitive, whether your answer is affirmative or negative, I hope that you do not think of doing anything stupid between now and tomorrow. My son does not handle betrayal well and I fear that this imposing building will not withstand the heat of Balerion and Vhagar flames. Have good nights._ ]” Rhaegar said goodbye with his sweetest and most persuasive voice, but one that was linked by steel in his tone and gesture. After that he turned and walked briskly towards his family.

* * *

When after walking down the long corridor, they reached the endless stairs that would return them to the square, Arya stopped walking beside Rhaegar, to pulling his hand so that he was at her level.

“[ _Uncle_ ]” Arya whispered when he bent down, in her _attempt_ of _High Valyrian_ with a strong northern accent “[ _The fat man with the funny clothes is following us. Shall I throw the dagger at him?]_ " his niece asked, bringing Arya’s left hand to the dagger that she had at her waist hidden behind her cloak, while she directed her eyes behind them from where they were.

When Rhaegar turned and saw what Arya was referring to, he saw that just as he thought from the description his niece had given him, the one he believed was the _Sealord_ of Braavos, was briskly following them. Trying to breathe in _deep gulps_ of air while doing it.

During the entire meeting with the representatives of the future _Free Bank of Valyria,_ the fat man had not uttered a single word. Yet it seemed that had been calculating the situation, staring at the five of them and measuring his time.

No doubt the man had come to the conclusion that it was best not to link his fate with that of those who still controlled the _Iron Bank._

 _'Which shows that is very smart and sharp. He who comes after us instead of after the bankers indicates that our plans for Essos are to his liking and he sees that he can take advantage of us. I have no doubt that he will want to establish himself as our main ally in Braavos in exchange for maintaining his position and privileges. We will see if after exposing what we have in mind for the free-city, he is still of the same opinion,'_ Rhaegar thought as he watched how the obese man in colorful clothing approached the place where the whole family was standing now.

As they were left ahead, Lyanna, _Egg,_ and Bran must no doubt have turned around and watched who was approaching.

Rhaegar’s son had positioned himself in front of his mother, almost beside him, while Bran continued on the first of the steps, seemingly absent from everything that was happening now.

 _'He must be changing skins with some raven or leading the wolves to the Square downstairs.'_ thought as Rhaegar looked to his sides and behind him.

" _Your Grace, Your Excellencies."_ The obese Braavosi said in a common broken tongue with strong overtones of _Braavosi_ slang _._ The greeting was accompanied by a small nod in their direction and a slight bow of shoulders and arms.

 _‘He is certainly intended to please. A climbing boot-licker indeed.’_ Rhaegar mused quickly as he analyzed the body gesture, tone, and demeanor of the so-called _Sealord_ .

“I am glad in my heart that the _Dragons_ return to their home continent. It was about time someone considered putting order to this once splendid continent, which today is increasingly drifting. Without a doubt to carry out such an undertaking as the rebirth of the _old_ _Freehold of…”_ the fat man said pompously, to be cut off sharply by the raised right hand of his son Aegon, accompanied by a look capable of killing.

“ _The New_ _Freehold._ I reiterate what my father has said to the provisional members of the management of the _Free Bank of Valyria:_ Slavery, whether directly or indirectly supported or perpetrated, will be persecuted relentlessly and without mercy." Aegon's abrupt irruption showed that like him, his son had quickly understood the intentions of plump man. 

"Who are you my _Lord_? I believe that your name or status was not pronounced during the meeting that my son and my husband had with those bankers."Lya interpelled with an inquisitive and imperative tone, linked with disgust when referring to the _Keyholders._

“Ohhh!! _Her Excellency_ Lyanna Targaryen! Stories of your beauty pale when one see you in person! If I were the lucky one to possess _Her Excellency_ heart, I would certainly go to war against the Dothraki themselves." The obese man said in a sweet and caramel tone, brimming with falsehood in him. The braavosi eyes were roaming his wife's figure with lust and appreciation, as if it were an object he could buy.

The dart thrown at Rhaegar, accusing him of starting a war for Lya, had produced the physical effect of a blow. However, Rhaegar managed not to take the hint and continued to watch with his mask of neutrality as the man tried to flatter his wife.

“ _Her Excellency_ did not hear my name, because I preferred not to be introduced until I knew exactly who I was dealing with. Incredible as your situation is, someone in my position would easily recognize who you are. Ferrego Antaryon is my name, the _Sealord of Braavos_ to serve you, _your Excellency_.”

The forms, attitudes and tone of the obese Sealord interacting with Lya, quickly confirmed something that Aegon had warned him about repeatedly.

_'Different continent, Different people. Same game. Same shit. Sometimes I wonder if it might not be better for the family and the remaining Starks to go to a lost island near the Summer Isles and let the Others eradicate any trace of life. At least the revived puppets of the Others don't try to prey on or kill each other.'_

The Sealord now cast an exculpatory gaze in Aegon's direction, crossing his arms over his vast belly, as the _Sealord_ clasped his palms apologetically.

“ _Your Grace,_ regarding my previous slip in reference to the roots of _your enterprise,_ my sincere apologies _._ The _novelty_ of the _new imprint_ , as opposed to the _custom_ of _the traditional_ Valyrian _seal_ , may be problematic in the immediate time. However, I am sure that tomorrow night over a dinner we will be able to finalize the details of our alliance and the role that my city will play in the future _Freehold of Valyria_." Pompously announced the invitation, accompanied by the subtle hint on slavery, almost imperceptible but present.

 _'Just like his intentions to be a peer to the Freehold and not a subject_. _'_ Before any of them could respond, the _Sealord_ continued with a speech that seemed to have been thinking about since he learned of his plans.

"As a gesture of my goodwill and that of the _Free City of Braavos,_ I am going to reveal a secret that involves your family and that will surely erase my previous confusion." Antaryon said now with a singsong voice and a smile from ear to ear that did not reach the eyes. The posture continued with his fat arms crossed over his belly and the hands palms together.

“Although I would like the secret to be entirely good news, it also has its downside. You see, since the time of the _Conciliator_ , a chest containing three dragon eggs was in the possession of the _Sealord_ on duty..."

"The eggs that Lady Farman stole from Rhaena!" Rhaegar immediately fell into what the obese _Braavosi_ ruler was referring to _,_ before this one could elaborate more on the subject.

 _'By all laws those eggs belong to house Targaryen and they have always refused to even acknowledge that they had them in their possession. If he mentions them now it is because he no longer has them.'_ Rhaegar reflected quickly.

At the face of surprise from the _Sealord_ and confusion in his family, he decided to expand the information. “Generation after generation of Targaryen, the story has been passed orally of how Rhaena's love for Lady Farman enabled the latter to appropriate dragon eggs from _Dragonmont itself_. It used to be counted as a warning of what could happen if you had love affairs with people who did not have a proper lineage for House Targaryen."

Trying not to look at Lyanna, Rhaegar concluded “The ultimate example of why _Love_ is the death of _Duty_. Rhaena preferred to avoid her duties as princess of the Kingdom and of house Targaryen and in the end the only thing she won were betrayals and a broken heart."

“I see that you know your story well, _Your Excellency._ Indeed, until a few moons ago those eggs were a hereditary asset among the Sealord of Braavos. However, someone managed to steal them, although made stone by time, whoever owns them could now sell them in exchange for great riches. My suspicions fall on a _Pentosi_ merchant who currently houses _your_ brother and sister, _His Excellency."_

The stifled sigh that came from Lyanna, Arya, and even Aegon himself, was replicated by himself. Bran for his part had his one eye totally blank, as he continued to lean against the wall of the staircase where he had been since the _Sealord_ intercepted them.

At this point, a thousand questions raced through Rhaegar's head, not to mention the desire that had just come to him to get on _Vhagar_ and go to Pentos to rescue his brother and sister. It seemed that Aegon was not expecting this news either, as it was one of the few times that Rhaegar had seen his son bewildered.

It looked like Lyanna was going to say something, but a roar that was neither from _Vhagar_ , nor from _Balerion_ , brought them out of their astonishment and uncertainty.

 _'Meraxes roaring on its own free will? Something must be going on…'_ a noise behind Rhaegar and the _Sealord's_ terrified groan _brought_ Rhaegar out of his reverie. When he turned around he could see that the three puppies, already the size of an adult dog but looking more ferocious, were at the feet of Bran, who had adopted his alter ego of Branraven

 _'I wonder if the Sealord's wail of terror was by the Direwolfs or by Bran's unfathomable red eye_.’

"Aegon, they are here." his nephew said with his voice from beyond the grave, as he placed the red gaze between Rhaegar and his son.

Those simple words changed the attitude and ways of Aegon. For two moons, Rhaegar thought he had gotten to know his son. But with four simple words from Bran, had suddenly totally changed Aegon.

Rhaegar’s son seemed to have lost an enormous weight off his shoulders, so that his body was not tense. The marbled and impassive face, had given way to one that wore a dazzling smile, accompanied by a look of innocence, hope and a certain fear, which was totally alien to the cold, hard, sure and sometimes lost gaze, which Aegon usually displayed. 

‘ _I would bet my life that it has more to do with what Bran has said than with the knowledge of the possible location of his paternal uncle and aunt.’_ Rhaegar thought carefully as he contemplated the scene that was unfolding before him.

A glance at Lyanna confirmed that as Rhaegar thought, Bran was not referring to the _Direwolf._

"[ _Of course they are here, stupid. We can see them_.]”Arya said practically inaudible to Bran, as she bent down to pet her she-wolf.

"[ _Soon sister, you will know what I mean.]_ " Rhaegar faintly heard Bran say in his particular voice when he went into the kind of trance Bran’s was entering.

"Why can't you tell me?" Arya grumbled, this time more audibly and using a common tongue for the first time in days.

"Because I gave Aegon my word to not to." Rhaegar seemed to understand, after which Bran turned on himself and began the descent of the stairs followed by his wolf and Arya after him.

"[ _Stupid…]_ " was the last thing he thought he heard Arya say again speaking in her _northern_ _High Valyrian_ as she shot off on her brother's trail, _Nymeria_ hot on her heels.

 _Ghost_ for its part was being more expressive and playful than had ever been. The pup kept circling Aegon, giving little shoves to Aegon’s legs, as if trying to push Rhaegar’s son in the direction his brother and sister had gone.

At that moment both, Rhaegar and Lyanna turned in the direction of Aegon, who had his head bowed, staring at the ground, while constantly bringing his right hand over his hair.

Everything in Aegon’s attitude showed that the situation in which he found himself made him very uncomfortable in the same he seemed to felt some shame and ‘ _regret_?’ in it. Not to mention that Rhaegar had never seen his son act that way.

Coming as close as he could to regaining some composure, Aegon took a deep breath and shot an icy look at the _Sealord_. _Ghost_ seemed to have calm down immediately by leaning on his hindquarters on Aegon's left side, though was still tense, ready to run at any moment.

“Thank you for your information and for the invitation that we gladly accept. I hope that tomorrow you can share more with us about what you know about my uncle and aunt, as well as give us your support in signing the contract with the _Iron Bank_. But we must leave you shortly, as an unforeseen event has arisen. Have a good night and see you tomorrow.” Aegon said in a voice more tremulous than usual, but cold and metallic, ending the brief meeting at the top of the stairs.

Before the _Sealord_ could reply, his son had already turned around, heading at a brisk pace after _Ghost_ who had shot down the stairs. Lyanna bowed her head gently in greeting at the _Sealord_ and followed in their son's footsteps, something Rhaegar soon followed.

When they had already descended a long flight of stairs, they reached Aegon, who looked like a man on a mission that no one and nothing would separate from. It seemed that Aegon had not even registered the presence of his parents behind him.

“Egg, can you tell what the hell just happened? You have suddenly gone from being the compound and all-powerful _Dragon_ to looking like a child about to receive a gift and a punishment at the same time. And I'm sure as hell that Bran _doesn't need to be_ the _three-eye raven_ to tell you that the wolves were there.” Lyanna told Aegon vehemently and with some reprimand, while grabbing him by his left shoulder.

"Ehm ... Do you remember that _Senya's_ ritual was supposed to bring the _Dragon and his sisters_ along with the dragons?" Aegon asked in an uncertain voice and a look that eluded both of them. Again his right hand rocked through Egg’s hair, while his left played over and over with the hilt of the dagger at his waist.

When both Rhaegar and Lyanna nodded, his son continued to descend, while continuing his narrative.

“When I was about to face the _Others_ , Bran convinced me that it was not the right moment, because there was someone who was counting on me. That night Bran told me a series of things while we were returning to the _Wall_ , which I considered that the best thing for the common well-being and in the situation that we were immersed in, was that only Bran and I knew about them."

When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs again, where the thirteen statues stood, Aegon turned and stared at him, conveying what was undoubtedly guilt and regret in the eyes.

“Father I don't know how to say it less blunt. Rhaenys, Ser Jaime and Rhaella are alive, or were alive two years ago, when Bran saw them for the last time through the _Weirwood Tree_ located on the island of temples in this city, _Braavos_. Before you just get indignant with me for my secrecy, let me finish telling you what I know."

Despite his son's request, his _dragon_ was _waking up_ and it was difficult for Rhaegar to control.

"Was _bullshit_ what you said after _our_ _fight?_. Where is that what you have to trust and be honest with each other. A bit hypocritical in view of what you are saying.” Rhaegar said with more contempt and anger than he intended to his son.

Lyanna tried to intervene, but Rhaegar’s character was clouding. To think that two moons ago he could have hugged his mother or daughter again, or at least not having the burden of their deaths on his soul was seriously angering him with Aegon. “YOU HAVE TAKEN TWO MOONS KNOWING THAT MY DAUGHTER, YOUR SISTER, IS ALIVE AND YOU HAD NOT SAID ANYTHING! YOU HAVE TWO MOONS KNOWING THAT YOUR GRANDMOTHER, MY MOTHER IS ALIVE AND YOU HAD KEPT IT FOR YOURSELF! YOURSELF!! WHO HAS GIVEN YOU THE POWER TO DECIDE WHAT OTHERS SHOULD OR SHOULD NOT KNOW? ” Rhaegar shouted at his son, who had not been daunted at all, although didn't seem to replicate Rhaegar’s anger or indignation at all. Aegon was holding on stoically, maintaining his composed attitude.

"For this very reason, father." Replied Aegon, outlining a smile that expressed anything but humor or amusement, while extending his arms in Rhaegar’s direction.

“I didn't say anything because I knew you would react like this, blinding you in their search. The chances of finding them were very low and would have been a deviation of our plans and forces. If they are still alive, I assumed that sooner or later they would come to us... _[Don't judge me as insensitive. For two moons, I have known that the woman I love was living the life of a persecuted woman in the exile, with high chances that every day someone would try to assassinate her. Don’t you think that when we were in Forlond I have not sometimes been tempted to get on Balerion and come looking for her at the last place where Bran was able to see her? Do you think I have not felt like sending everything to fuck itself, looking for her and getting lost with the dragons on some desert island of the Summer Isles, letting darkness consume the rest of the world?]"_ Aegon sentenced in his high Valyrian, in a tone that progressively increased in volume and vehemence, which in turn exuded a certain bitterness and regret at the role that _Fate_ had given Aegon.

Rhaegar’s son's attitude had returned to the defiant and imposing one he used to show, like daring Rhaegar to contradict him after having proved the validity of his point.

Seeing this, Lyanna took the opportunity to calm the spirits between the two, resuming the conversation.

“How is it possible that they’ve survived? Everyone knew they were dead. Your Uncle Ned's men were the ones who found the supposed bodies of Ser Jaime and your sister…Is there anything else we should know? Don't you think that after all this time it is time that you stop trying to be the one who carries everyone's burden and start delegating a little more to us? We are your parents. We can get angry with you and you with us. We can have different points of view on the same subject. We can differ on which option is the correct one to take. But none of that subtracts an iota of the love we feel for you. You have to learn to trust us Egg.” Lyanna instructed her son, who had lost all challenge in his attitude, in exchange for a more submissive and of infinite love for his mother.

"I'll try mom." said Aegon with a huge smile that reached his eyes, the voice warm and velvety, far removed from his usually cold and metallic voice. Aegon began to walk in the direction of the ante-square that gave access to the bridge that led to the square, where a crowd of people seemed to have gathered.

“Regarding the rest about their escape, I think it would be better if we asked them. But before that, I must tell you two things. Rhaenys died on the _Day of the Sack_ and came back to life like me, but remember that she was less than four days of her name when that happened. So I don't know how much _Rhae_ will be able to explain, remember, or if she can attribute it to dreams. She is as much the _sister of the Dragon_ as mine. That is possibly why we have heard _Meraxes_ approach. _She_ must have felt it." Rhaegar’s son continued speaking as they headed towards the steps where Arya and Bran were waiting with the wolves.

Before reaching where the children were, where Bran seemed to have regained his normal self, Egg slowed down, putting himself in front of them. His son began to look at them, the gaze oscillating between Rhaegar and Lya, like trying to find the words he meant to say.

“The other thing that I want to tell you and that I hope you will help me later with what to do, is Ser Jaime and I don't mean what he did with Aerys. Although in a way it does have to do with my grandfather.”Aegon said strangely cryptically, with certain nervousness in the voice.

_'Why is he so nervous? What is there after Ser Jaime and my father? It was rumored of Aerys's love for Joanna, but from gossip to reality…'_

“You're making me nervous Egg. Usually you never go around the bush so much to say things.” Lyanna questioned their son.

“Mmm… Jaime and Cersei Lannister, they are not Lannister at all. They are Blackfyre, Waters or Targaryen…depending on what you want to see.” Aegon replied abruptly and almost without breathing as he said it.

"My father and Joanna ..." he asked Aegon in a practically inaudible tone.

“That's how it is father. From what Bran could see, Aerys loved Joanna, but when Grandmother began to be suspicious of her husband's interest in her lady-in-waiting and best friend, she tried to prevent what Grandmother knew would happen by sending her back to _Casterly Rock_. But she didn’t made in time. That was the first time Aerys raped someone. Joanna Lannister, who kept quiet and sped up her wedding plans with Tywin. And that is why Aerys later repeatedly raped grandmother. Because Grandmother was not Joanna and she was responsible for the latter being no longer at _Court_. It was Aerys’ way of getting revenge. That was why he wanted Jaime in the King’s _guard_ and Cersei away from you. If you and Cersei had descendants, the children would have been full fledged Valyrian, which would have raised many suspicions."

The revelation had practically broken Rhaegar.

 _'Cersei has more legitimacy than Robert has, and Jaime is my Valonqar…’_ Looking at Lyanna, it seemed that she still didn't quite understand the repercussions that such news could have in _Westeros_ , although it was clear that she supposed it would be an added problem for them, to tenor of the frown Lya was sporting.

However, Rhaegar could barely process his son's words, as just like when they were meeting the _Sealord_ at the top of the stairs, _Meraxes_ decided to interrupt again. Although this time she was accompanied by her physical presence, heading towards the crowd of people who were shooting in the direction of the intersections surrounding the great _Braavosi_ square.

In a few moments, on the other side of the bridge Rhaegar identified that only a group of about eight people remained, carrying what if his eyes were not deceiving him was

_'My mother's banner and that one, without a doubt, by the white Sun crossed by a Red spear must be Rhaenys's!?'_

Rhaegar came out of his momentary trance when saw that suddenly, from the group ran in the direction of the descending dragon, a slender woman, 1'78 tall, with silver hair like the reflection of the moon. With a body with pronounced curves at the waist and firm chest, wrapped in a beautiful scarlet red dress with crossed black lines of myrish thread. A true beauty of ancient Valyria.

_'The same woman from my dragon dream, but now she has completely silver hair. However it is certainly Rhaenys.'_

Before Rhaegar could process his own thoughts, his body, like Aegon's beside him, had taken on a life of its own and started a mad dash across the bridge. When they arrived on the other side, Rhaegar almost lost consciousness.

Less than fifteen paces from him was his mother Rhaella Targaryen, with five and ten days of the name more in her, but practically identical to how he remembered her.

Rhaegar’s mother was trying to restrain a man with long hair, with a typical navy green Tyroshi coloration. Looking at the body of the _supposed Tyroshi_ , he recognized the armor the man was wearing. It was the same one that Jaime Lannister used in the past, except that in Qohorí black steel, instead of the gold _Lannister_. Jaime’s snowy cloak fell behind his shoulders. In the effort to stop him, there was one who undoubtedly Rhaegar recognized as Gerion Lannister _‘The Laughing Lion’_ and a middle-aged man with short hair and the appearance of a sailor.

The reason that they were trying to stop the man Rhaegar sensed was Jaime _'My valonqar..'_ was that the woman who he had identified as his daughter was face to face with the immense mass of muscles and scales that was _Meraxes._

"Take it easy you all, _Axes_ is reuniting with an old friend." said Aegon approaching the group of people, who immediately turned in their direction. Lyanna and the kids hadn't finished crossing the bridge yet and seemed to be keeping their distance, in pursuit of giving the Targaryen family more privacy.

_'Not to mention that if Meraxes had put them like this, the presence of the Direwolfs would have only increased the tension.'_

"Rhaegar ..." his mother uttered in a small voice, before collapsing in the arms of Gerion Lannister.

"My king” Jaime Lannister intoned reverently, kneeling down.

Yet right now Rhaegar had no eyes for anyone other than his daughter. He started a _mad_ _dash_ towards _Meraxes_ and Rhaenys

 _"Rhaenys! Rhaenys!"_ he began to scream desperately.

When his daughter turned around, Rhaegar couldn't help but start crying uncontrollably. His little girl was in front of him.

"Daughter!" Rhaegar yelled heartbreakingly, closing the remaining distance between them.

Before his daughter had processed what had happened, he had her trapped in a hug that Rhaegar wanted to last for the rest of his life

 _'My little girl is alive. My little girl is here. My little Rhae. My little princess. The only joy of my life until I met Lya._ ’ He thought, as was unable to stop sobbing like a little boy.

“Dad! I never imagined that I would see you again! I can’t believe it! You are alive! And you look the same as in my memories!” Rhaenys said excitedly, her voice trembling and agonized, as she melted into tears over Rhaegar’s armor.

Seeing how she began to shake, he couldn't help the urge and hugged her again with all his might. After a moment, Rhaegar turned slightly away from her to look at Rhaenys.

Looking into her eyes, he could see the incomprehension and confusion at what she was seeing. Without a doubt it must have been difficult for her to understand how his father, dead for fifteen years, was there hugging her.

"It's because I really was dead until two moons ago, when a ri...” Rhaegar tried to begin to tell the story of the last two moons of his _new life_ to his daughter, but was interrupted by Egg who had appeared at his side.

" _Hāedar_ " said his son to Rhaenys.

His daughter suddenly whipped her head around in Egg's direction. When Rhaenys's eyes closed on her brother, her mouth dropped open and her eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets.

After a couple of incomprehensible babbling, Rhaenys could finally find her voice "EGG?!!" she yelled shrill. "It can not be, it can not be! All was a dream! Just a dream!" Rhaenys began to scream maniacally, before her eyes rolled over their sockets and began to fall sideways.

Before Rhaegar could even react, Aegon was by Rhaenys's side, preventing her from hitting the ground. "RHAEEEEEE!" shouted his son heartbreakingly

_'If there was any doubt about the Visenya ritual, I think this proves it all. But where is Visenya in that case? I had no other children than Egg and Rhae... The more magic there is, the less I am able to understand what is happening. At least I am clear that a night of many explanations awaits us, but fortunately it will be indoors.'_

* * *

* * *

[1] Barad Suvion: Name of the citadel of Forlond

***** Annex III

In order to make reading faster and more enjoyable, I have preferred to put this as a link than to put it within the story itself.

Census, governmental, administrative, social and military system of the _Freehold of Valyria_

_Provincial Citizen Assembly / Kingdom / Federated State_ _Every six months. Free participation for every citizen of the Freehold. The elected members of the Provincial / Kingdom Councils and the elected representatives to the Council of the Freehold of Valyria are elected by public and argued vote._ Their decisions are not vetoable.

 _Provincial / Kingdom Council_ Every twelve months. 10 council members per province or kingdom. Their function is to solve the problems raised in the assemblies. Five citizens older than sixteen days of the name will be elected, according to their census position. A sixth member will always be the representative of the _Bank._ The seventh and eighth member, the political leader and the administrative leader. The ninth and the tenth and final member of the council, will come from popular election between the two lowest census classes. _The Knights and the Peasants._ They regulate politics in the province / kingdom. Their decisions can be vetoed by the Freehold Council, House Targaryen, and the Lord of Valyria.

 _Council of the Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_ Every 24 months. They represent their Province / Kingdom / Federated State in the Capital in a number of 10. Six citizens will be elected over sixteen days of the name, according to their census position. The seventh member will be responsible for the provincial administration of the Freehold, the remaining three, members of the census classes excluded in the election, chosen at random or by the highest ranking member of the provincial administration, kingdom or Federated State. Ability to enact and write laws. It can only be vetoed by the unanimous agreement of the Archons of House Targaryen and the Lord of Valyria.

\+ Composition of the Council of the Freehold of Valyria and Westeros: Ten members per Province / Kingdom / Federated Land = 100 + 70 by the beginning of Arc III (9 Free Cities and Free People + Westeros) At the time of this chapter there are only 20 and at the moment of the first council there will be 50/60 (The begining of the second Arc)

-The Council of the Freehold of Valyria will be held in the _Freehold_ capital , in a special location for such occasions.

-The Provincial / Kingdom Council will be held in the Palace / Castle of the provincial / kingdom administrator for the Freehold.

-The assemblies will be held in open and public spaces in the capitals of each province / kingdom / federated state.

Census Class

| 

Ranks in the _Freehold of Valyria_

| 

Gold coins in properties and savings  
  
---|---|---  
  
_Archonship_

| 

Elective position in the Council of the _Freehold of Valyria._ Elective Place in the _Provincial_ or _Kingdom Council._ Vote in _Provincial and Freehold Councils_ . Access to Major, Military and Administrative Magistrates

| 

From 500,000 per year  
  
_Nobility_

| 

Elective position in the _Provincial_ or _Kingdom Council_ . Vote in _Provincial Councils_ and _Freehold_ . Access to Major and Minor Magistrates, military and administrative.

| 

From 300,000 per year  
  
_Knights_

| 

Right to vote in the _Provincial Council_ and those elected, in the Council of the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros._ Access to Minors Magistrates and Sinecures, military and administrative courts.

| 

From 150,000 per year  
  
_Common people_

| 

Right to vote in the _Provincial Council_ . Access to minor administrative jobs, security and the military apparatus. If elected, can vote in the Council of The Freehold of Valyria and Westeros

| 

Less than 150,000 per year  
  
Practical example:

Provincial Council

Tar Nu Fuin Province, Forlond.

During the Mance Rayder chapter the first provincial council was taking place, which was being held after the popular assembly. Mance has been chosen by the citizens of the province as Political Leader. Five more were with him _, Tormund, Dalla, Styr Thenn, Varamyr, and Harma._ Joining them are the unnamed representative of the Free Bank _,_ Maester Aemon as administrative leader. Tarly and Rikker as members of the two lower ranks.

To the Council of the Freehold of Valyria and Westeros

In Eddard III you will see how this council is formed in aFederated Kingdom, but basically: Six nobles and four people of the common people, because the Targaryen / Freehold administration has not yet been implemented in the North.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fiction is only written on my AO3 DaeronTheYoungDragon account. It's a personal idea of mine based on AWOIAF, FIRE & BLOOD and ASOIAF. All characters, and canon information, belong to GRRM, Elio García and Linda Atonsson.
> 
> Regarding those who always encourage me, thank you for your good feedback and look forward to the story.


	18. The Black Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude III

**Late in the second moon of 298 AC. Winterfell, The North. Westeros**

" _His blood ran black."_ Yoren about Benjen Stark. _AGoT, Arya III_

"Why haven't you accepted the royal forgiveness that Jo-Aegon offered you?" Ned asked him in exasperation while he shook his head, as Benjen told him firsthand about his refusal to leave the _Watch_ more than seven moons ago.

"Because I made some vows Ned! For that reason, I don't care if one of the damned _old gods or the new gods_ showed up to tell me I had to leave the _Watch._ After seeing what is coming, I cannot leave my position as _Watcher on the Wall.”_ Benjen replied to his older brother with more aggressiveness than he had intended at first, but making it clear that his position now more than ever was defending the kingdoms of _all men_ , and not playing at being a _Lord._

Although he and his brother Ned were alone in the _Forest of the Gods,_ with the _Weirwood Tree_ and Lya's gigantic she-wolf as witnesses, the talk _never_ had the peaceful overtones that were presupposed in a place like where they were. Although Benjen did not want to admit it, all the truths that came to light, along with the appearance of the _Others_ , had made his brother Ned the favorite target of almost all his anger.

' _At this point in my life I am not going to marry and take over a castle. Let Ned give Rickon the new Sea Dragonpoint seat and a fiancée and let me be. I would have no problem supervising the construction and I would continue to honor my Watcher vows. But when my brother gets something in his head ...'_ Benjen thought with certain resentment.

“Benjen, now more than ever the family needs you. _Winter is Coming…_ ” Benjen’s brother tried to reply, making use of the family motto to take him by his side, with a pleading but hard and firm voice.

But Benjen wasn't going to budge and held up his hand for his brother to let him finish. _'I did not give in to my sister, I'm not going to do it now at Ned's petition._ _Lya would feel offended and with reason.’_

 _'From everything Jon and Lya told me, if not for the ritual of Visenya Targaryen, Ned would have gone to the grave with the secret of the true identity of their nephew, the last scion of the greatest dynasty that ever knew the world.’_ Benjen thought with some disgust as his brother stared at him with his cold gray eyes, judging Benjen for not helping him with the _reconstruction_ of the _North_ in which Ned was immersed.

"Yes ... And so much that winter comes, Ned." Benjen said ominously to his brother. “That is why, as I have already told you, my current position in the _Watch_ is of greater importance and utility for _the real war_ , than the work that I could perform as _Lord_. Something for which I have never studied or been prepared." He finished his proclamation of why he preferred to continue being a _Crow_ to being a _Lord_. _'Same thing I said to Lya in Eastwacth'_

Although officially Benjen was still brother of the _Night's Watch_ and its _First Ranger_ , since the events that had taken place at his return to the _Wall_ after the _expedition_ with his nephew Jon, Benjen’s position was rather that of being the link between the _Watch_ , the _Freehold, the Free Folk_ and the _North._ And the latter was because it was ruled by his brother, Ned.

Despite everything Benjen knew that had fallen on his brother’s shoulders in the recent moons, Benjen paused in his narration of the events at the _Wall_ to say something to Ned, to whom since Benjen saw Lyanna return from the dead needed to _tell him a few things_.

Steeling his posture, straightening himself in full, Benjen did not shy away from his older brother's reproachful look, on the contrary. He fixed his eyes on Ned's, to tell him with a cold tone that dripped acid.

"Also, if you remember correctly, it was you who sent me to the _Wall_ so the secret of the romance between Lya and Rhaegar in _Harrenhal_ would be kept away from the ears of _Your dearest Robert."_ Benjen ended practically spitting the name of the man who sat on the site that legitimately belonged to his nephew.

Benjen’s brother was half astonished, partly because of the anger and resentment in his words, and partly because it was the first time he had faced Ned in his entire life. Benjen had always been the calmest of his brothers, being the ideal counterpoint to Lya and Brandon's wolf blood. On the contrary, Ned, although rarely showed it, was capable of more character than his other two siblings and had the same stubbornness as them. This is why Benjen was unable to convince Ned of everything he knew during the _rebellion._ For that reason, now Benjen saw how his brother was surprised that Benjen was able to antagonize him.

“If you had told me the truth, I could have raised Jon. We could have claimed it as the bastard of Brandon… We could have done a thousand different things than what you did… But as you have now shown me, you thought that you could make decisions for everyone else and that only your opinion is valid." Benjen growled coldly, voice laced with disgust.

The defeated attitude in his Ned’s position at the end of the sentence, the lost eyes on the verge of tears, for a moment made Benjen feel guilty for everything he had said to Ned.

However, Benjen did not regret what he said. Although deep down he knew that his brother Ned had been another _pawn_ of the great game board that was _Westeros,_ he could not help feeling that they could have done more for Jon after Lya's death.

 _'At least I could have saved him from the scorn of the damn trout.'_ Benjen thought, before finishing telling him everything he thought about the events that transpired almost sixteen years ago.

"And all of that, without entering into the role that _your beloved_ foster father, your father-in-law and his family had in the death of our father, brother and sister ... and almost all of our politic family... Or so the world think…” Benjen finished saying, calmer now after having let out some of the resentment he had against his brother.

Ned went from being defeated and reproached, to having an attitude of confusion, which was perfectly reflected in his gaze and in his half-open mouth.

“W…what? Have _more Targaryen come to life?"_ his brother Ned asked in a trembling voice far removed from his cold and serene lord's voice.

 _'I forgot that Ned had seen firsthand the aftermath of Visenya's ritual at the First Keep. Without a doubt, like Jon, Ned must have gained some apprehension before magic and blood rituals.'_ Benjen thought as he shook his head and placed a hand on Ned’s left shoulder, to let him know that despite the reproaches and discussion he was still his brother and part of the same _pack._

Although Bran told Benjen that it was information only for him and that except for Jon, no one else knew, Benjen knew that he had to tell Ned the truth about Rhaenys, Jaime and Rhaella. _'Or at least part of the truth.'_

“They haven't come back Ned. They never died in the first place. Or so I think. They have been hiding for fifteen years. Rhaenys, Jon's sister is alive. Like Rhaella Targaryen and Ser Jaime…” in this name he hesitated, because he knew the opinion that Ned had on the _kingslayer_. And since the circumstances in which Ser Jaime killed his biological father were still unknown to Benjen, he preferred to keep that information aside.

Not to mention that Benjen knew it wasn't his story to tell. Although Ser Jaime should probably already know that he was Aerys's son by now, even if he accepted the legitimation with the Targaryen surname, it was not Benjen's place to announce to the _Lord Protector of the North_ , even if this one was his brother. He also didn't want to add more stress to Ned by mentioning that a _Blackfyre, Waters_ or _Targaryen,_ depending on your point of view, was the _Queen Consort_ of _Westeros._

Before Ned could interpellate, Benjen recounted what Bran had told him, without incurring personal secrets, or really revealing how he got the information “I don't really know how, but apparently Ser Jaime managed to escape from the _Red_ Keep with Rhaenys, to then somehow reach _Dragonstone_ where they found Rhaella Targaryen dying, but not dead. They escaped from the island, to once recovered, exiled their selves to Essos. According to the information Jon had, when they left for _Braavos_ , his sister and grandmother were there." Benjen told Ned in a fast and agitated voice, trying not to make any reference to his true source.

“But how is it possible? Great Jon and Martyn Cassel, among others, saw the charred bodies. The armor and golden sword of the _Kingslayer_ were melted onto the ground and the bodies. Are you sure of what you're saying?" Ned asked hesitantly, frowning.

“Absolutely sure Ned. As I have already said, the circumstances of Ser Jaime's escape are diffuse but a certainty. Like his presence with both Targaryen women in Braavos. "Taking advantage of the place where they were, Benjen did not hesitate to add "As well you will understand Ned, this is a secret and I hope you promise me that it will remain between the two of us until the official notice arrives _._ By the banner of the _Freehold of Valyria,_ which you will soon have waving over your _new walls_ , I suppose it won't take long to get to you. But when they left the _Wall_ for _Braavos_ more than six moons ago, only Bran and Jon knew this information.” Benjen said seriously and firmly to his older brother, but exuding warmth for the sigil they had chosen.

At hearing Bran's name, Ned raised an eyebrow, but then ignored it. ‘ _Ned may believe that what Aegon knows, his squire also knows.'_ Benjen was internally glad not to have to clarify more about Bran, at least for the moment.

"I swear before the _Old Gods_. Now tell me what is so special about the sigil that makes you think that they have reunited with the _Princess and the Mother? Grandmother_? _Dowager_? _Queen_." Ned asked with curiosity and a hint of humor, accepting for the moment the survival of both women.

Ned’s last question was something Benjen could never answer _'By the Gods, the hierarchy and family tree is complicated in the current house Targaryen. More so when the head of the family is the youngest and at the same time the predecessor of all the others.'_ thought that made him chuckle.

Smiling at Ned, while looking into his brother’s eyes Benjen said with a joking tone. "Can't you imagine what they may have chosen between Aegon and Rhaenys reborn, with Rhaegar and Lyanna along with them?"

Ned put his hand to the chin and made the gesture of thinking, but immediately made the gesture of surrender, spreading the arms with the palms forward, while raising an eyebrow.

“I don't know, but I bet that the damn rampant three-headed dragon in scarlet red will be in it.” said Benjen’s old brother with a certain bitterness and sadness.

What little he had said about the way Jon had embraced his Targaryen heritage with Ned, showed that his older brother felt a kind of jealousy at the absence of any mention of Jon’s heritage as a _wolf_ .

“Hahaha…You are not wrong in that, brother. When I finish telling you all the news from their journey through the _Wall_ , you will understand that they are not called _Dragons_ only because of their sigil and their mounts, but because they are themselves the human incarnation of the mythical creatures. Creatures which I hope not to climb on it never again… Hahaha.”

Benjen finally spoke relaxed with Ned, who was also sharing the laughs with him now. He was grateful that after putting in order, or as much as possible to put in order, the events from _Harrenhal_ to Lya's death and, before getting into the bulk of what was happening at the _Wall_ , he and Ned could have a fraternal moment between them.

"Well Benjen, don't keep me in the doubt. Tell me, what will the banner that will fly over my new walls be like?" Ned said with warmth and some sarcasm.

"Along with the _special package_ mentioned in Aegon's scroll." the mention of it alone, caused a change in the atmosphere, dissipating all possible joy and relaxation. They both returned to their upright position, sitting at the base of the white tree at the edge of the pool of hot water.

“I have brought you a pair of banners. But I anticipate it; It is on a black background, with the ineffable rampant dragon with three heads in scarlet red, as you have mentioned before. From the dragon hangs from its left claw a growling white wolf with scarlet red eyes and from its right claw a white sun pierced by a scarlet red spear. Between the two, hangs a huge dark blue _winter rose_."

"They use the sigils of their maternal houses in reverse." Ned said, having noticed quickly. "Jo-Aegon still takes badly having been treated like a bastard, right?" Said Ned with a voice half broken and full of guilt.

“Let's say that you are not his favorite uncle at the moment and that with your actions you are going to have to earn his trust and affection. The latter has it for you. Both for you and Robb. But also, both of you are going to have to prove yourself worthy of that love. If not, you're only going to widen the gap that you with your lies and Robb with his attitude of _spoiled and arrogant lord_ have created with him." He said bringing up a topic that Lyanna and Rhaegar had mentioned to him and that Benjen thought was a good time to bring up.

“Ned, even if you saved him from Robert's wrath and Tywin's greed, Jon, Lya, your brother-in-law and even Arya know that if Robb or Bran had been the _usurped_ , you would not have taken a sigh to defend their rights ofo birth. And you know it too. On the other hand with Jon ... Just seeing who sits on the Iron Throne tells everything about you."

Ned's lies smelled more of protection _towards_ Robert than of _from_ Robert. While his nephew Robb's attitude towards Jon and Rhaegar, as well as the way Robb sided with his mother when the whole truth came out, showed an alarming immaturity, pride and vanity. And so Benjen intended to tell Ned.

"I hope you put Robb pride down before you go to _Essos,_ the same way I hope you get him into his head that he should kiss the ground his cousin Jon is walking on for not decapitating the damn _trout_ at that moment." He said in a dry tone, but without reprimand or demanding. _'Rather a suggestion, as Lya told me to do.'_

Sometimes Benjen didn't know whether to thank or curse the gods for his sister's return. Although he would never tell anyone, for Lya he would reach the end of the world. A thing that in the past made him get carried away by Lya’s ideas and plans. And now, when it came to Jon, Benjen was firmly on his sister's side.

His brother Ned, looking at him coldly, putting on his most stoic countenance straight posture, as he sat cross-legged on the enormous root of the _Weirwood Tree, commanded_ respect. But Benjen knew that if his family wanted to survive the _winter_ , they should stop behaving like _summer children._ It was time to hit his brother with a bit of _realism._

“Don't look at me like that Ned. The body presented before the _Iron Throne_ was my nephew too, you know? And you did nothing but complain a bit and go back to the _North_ with your tail between the legs, believing that if you lock yourself up here the rest of the world would forget about you and you about them. But it doesn't work like that, Ned. And that's why I am here. To help you do what you have to do, at least until the _Harvest Festival_. After that, if there is no prior emergency, I will return to _Eastwacht and from there to Castle Black.”_

Benjen communicated his plans for the next three months to his brother. He hadn't mentioned _Eastwacth's_ current name _yet_ , because that would _raise_ even more questions. Questions that Benjen preferred to answer before Ned asked.

As in within two moons Ned was going to announce to the lords of the _North_ the events that had been taking place in the _North_ and _Beyond the Wall_ for the last seven moons, Benjen had come to his ancestral home to bring a key piece in the future _Harvest Festival_ gathering where his brother planned to reveal much of what was going on.

However, Benjen has also come to see Ned and update him on everything that was happening in the _Tar-nu Fuin,_ province of the _Valyrian Freehold,_ on the direct orders of Jon and Maester Aemon.

Much of the future of future events would be marked by the meeting with the lords of the North. If his brother Ned could convince them of the need to live with the people from the other side of the _Wall_ and to agree to once again kneel before the dragons, they would no doubt have already taken a great step.

Benjen’s primary reason as the sworn brother _of the Night's Watch_ was to oversee the delivery of a special package to his brother. A _Proof_ that the ultimate enemy still existed.

This _proof_ was achieved at a great price by the _Free Folk,_ but the ten elders who sacrificed themselves for this mission knew that it was essential for those who did not know the enemy to believe in it. Mance Rayder was never going to be Benjen’s friend but the decision of the _Lord on the Wall_ made on the dilemma of how to convince the _lords of the north_ would be something Benjen would never forget.

"Have you come here to be the voice of _His Grace?"_ Ned almost hissed in a caustic tone, coming out of the stupor and rage that had possessed him with Benjen’s previous outburst.

“No brother, don't confuse things. It is time for you to understand that we fight against _The Others_. They have no honor, they have not hungry, they do not have pride or political vanities, nor do they have greed. They don't tire, they don't fret and don't stop before anything other than fire or Valyrian steel, at least that with the wights. With the _Others,_ we still do not know how to defeat them, but we intuit that if there is something that can work, it is Valyrian steel. We know that the castle steel they transforms it to ice upon contact and that it is useless against them. The fire only seems to slow down their _magic_ , even if it the fire of the _Black Dread itself.”_ Benjen stopped soon Ned's outburst.

 _'It seems that I am going to have to tell the story of almost my last eight moons of life.’_ Benjen thought as he contemplated Ned’s reaction.

His brother had turned pale with Benjen’s narration, to the point of shaking by the end of his presentation. His intention was not to be crude about the matter, but he could not allow Ned to continue to have doubts about his affiliation with House Targaryen. Which in Benjen's eyes, apart from being family, were the only ones capable of ending what he had seen.

“That is why I really have come _home_ Ned. To tell you everything that happened in the _Wall_ and beyond of it since Aegon's arrival there, until I came here three weeks ago."

And so, Benjen begin to tell his tale to his brother Ned.

"It all began one late afternoon when I was on _duty_ near the _Hardin Tower_ , when suddenly a roar like no other that I had heard in my life spread throughout the _Wall_ , shaking the foundations of it ..."

* * *

Hours passed as Benjen told Ned about his journey beyond the wall on _Balerion_. The encounter with _Bloodraven_ and the _Singers of The Earth,_ with a lot of omissions recounting that part. The appearance _of the Army of the Others_ and Benjen’s subsequent flight with the _half-hand_ through kilometers of labyrinthine tunnels that ran under the _Enchanted Forest_ and that left them less than a fortnight's walk from _Castle Black._ Jon's purchase of half the _Wall_ and _Brandon's Gift._ As well of the subsequent constitution in these lands of the _Tar-nu Fuin_ Province of the _Freehold of Valyria_ in _Westeros_ and a seat as capital for this in _Forlond,_ the old _Eastwacht_.

Ned had been changing colors through the narration and his brother’s attitude and features had oscillated between disbelief, surprise, stupor and even denial at times.

“Everything you are telling me seems incredible to me. And when you tell me about the banners of the _Freehold_ , that you bring me _real_ _proof_ that the _Others_ exist...it seems so contrary to what I had ingrained in my mind, that it is almost impossible for me to reconcile the reality you has presented to me with my own previous thoughts." Said Ned with a trembling and nervous voice, higher than normal, while ran the right hand over and over again through Ned’s dark brown hair.

“Benjen, think that I dealt with _Aegon for only_ three days, which were actually three nights, and most of the time was spent making plans to reinforce and strengthen the _North_ or discussing the events of the _Rebellion_. As much, I participated in discussions about what could happen in the future once he had a strong position in _Essos_ to return here and claim his own." Benjen’s brother continued by telling him why this new reality was so shocking for Ned.

Benjen now knew something that before arriving at his family home he did not know. Ned had not been aware of Aegon and Rhaegar's intentions regarding plans that they both had formed and almost concrete about exactly what they would do regarding _Essos_ and _Westeros._

This made the surprise in his brother more understandable after Bejen’s enumeration of events from the arrival of his sister with her son to the _Wall_ , until they went east.

' _Ned for his part, until now had not been aware of the ambition and scale in the Targaryen plans. It is difficult to process that your nephew in a not too distant future may be the owner of the destiny of 60 million people.'_ Benjen thought, sympathizing with the feelings his brother might be experiencing, the whom took a deep breath and continued his explanation.

“For a moment I even fooled myself and I thought that maybe just by restoring _Valyria_ , our nephew would not claim his _Throne_ here, because I never imagined that _The Others_ could really return or even exist in the first place. Or that if Jo-Aegon came back to claim his inheritance rights, by the time he could do it, Robert and Jon Arryn would already be dead. Now you tell me that my nephew has founded the first _Province of the Freehold of Valyria_ in the _North of Westeros_ , that although they are not my lands, they are directly in contact with them. Just _the New Gift_ separates the Targaryen from the _North_. And that makes the option that I have to confront who I considered my second father and my brother in everything but blood on the battlefield so real and feasible that it shudders me." Ned confessed to him, something that Benjen already sensed beforehand.

Surely to Ned that the _wildlings_ had organized around a _King-from-Beyond-the-Wall_ seemed crazy enough. But that then this _wildlings_ gave up their power in Jon and that all the _Free Folk_ except two thousand or three thousand, had submitted to the contract and the double oath and then adopted a sedentary lifestyle with a city of their own in _Brandon’s Gift_ seemed impossible to him to happen. Though it was happening nonetheless.

By having to omit the contributions of Bran or the skin-changers, Benjen had to convince Ned of the potential of giants, mammoths and dragons so that he would not think that it was impossible that a 180-kilometer wall and a citadel, was being erected at such speed. With a huge tower and the largest port in the history of the _North_ inside the latter.

Benjen decided it was time to explain to him the power that it was gathering at the _Wall_ and how his nephew had gathered that power around him.

"But I have not come only just to tell you how the first province of the _Freehold_ was founded or how I witnessed _the return of the Others."_ Benjen told his brother with a cold and dry tone.

The so far quick, efficient and practically bloodless implantation and creation of the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_ is something that never ceased to amaze Benjen every day. At times it was incredible that Jon was achieving all that.

 _'And I have at least had more time to get to know Aegon, his plans, his methods and his ways.'_ So Benjen didn't want to imagine what might go through his brother Ned’s head when Benjen brought him up to speed on everything. The last news Ned had from his _Targaryen_ family in _Essos_ dated from when they left for _Braavos._ More than five moons ago. And were brief and to the point. Therefore Benjen believed it was necessary to tell Ned everything, although his brother interrupted him before he could do it.

“I don't know what else you might want to tell me, Benjen. If it weren't you who is telling me and where you're telling me, I would judge you as a mad or as a liar. Everything you've told me so far is incredible to me. But according to you, you even bring proof of the _real enemy…”_ replied his half-decomposed and pale brother. Ned’s gaze seemed lost and his eyes sunk in the cheeks.

In a moment, was as if Ned seemed to have ten days of the name more than he really had. _'I don't want to know how he will be when we finish this conversation.’_ Benjen lamented internally.

"Apart from this, there are certain things I need to tell you since they will affect _the Harvest Festival_ in a certain way. _"_ Benjen said dryly to his brother, speaking in a firm, determined and cold tone. “Ned I have seen them. I have seen the _Others_ and their infinite army. And when I saw it, I froze in panic, as did _the Half-Hand._ Between us we add more than forty days of the name serving on the Wall. While we were pissing on ourselves, unable to do anything, our nephew, Jon, charged only with his dragon against them to defend my retreat _and try to_ _end the Others once and for ever_ _right there,_ quoting his verbatim words in the latter. If there is anyone capable of defeating them, it is the person who unified this shitty continent to face them three hundred years ago, and who now thinks of unifying almost all the living to defeat them once and for all, whatever the cost."

Benjen was firmly convinced of what he was saying. Because he was. He believed in his nephew.

“It is time for you to fight for the same. I know Robert is like a brother to you. I know that lying and _playing_ to the _Game of Thrones_ is something you hate. But I know, as do all the people who are following Jon, that he is the only _real_ option to defeat the enemy on the other side of the _Wall_. You have to stop feeling like you are betraying Robert and Jon Arryn, when you are working _for our nephew_ to defeat the _Second Darkness_ , Ned." He said with some harshness and firmness, but not without warmth and affection to his brother.

“It is to him that you owe your allegiance. Not because of his rights, but because he knows what the real threat is and he is the only person capable of defeating them. They on the other hand used you and betrayed you first. For their fault, our nephew, the _King_ and supposedly, the one who was born to face the _Others_ , was being raised as a _bastard_ who would have ended up exiled among rapists and thieves in the _Wall._ Where he would have ended up facing the _Others as well,_ except who knows in what situation and with what support ...” Benjen tried to introduce his belief that Jon really was the one who would defeat the _Darkness._

By simulating whatever scenario that Benjen simulated in his head, one way or another, Jon would have ended up having contact with the _Wall_ and the _Others_ in some way _._ Even without knowing who he was, Jon possibly would have emerged as the leader in the fight against _The Others_.

 _'If that's not being predestined to something, I don't know what predestination is.'_ Benjen thought with some disgust at the weight that fate had placed on Aegon's shoulders, and to a lesser extent, on Bran.

“What do you mean with that Jon was born to face the Others? He is a person like any other… ” Ned interrupted Benjen in his inner thoughts with curiosity and doubt.

Seeing his brother's reaction, Benjen realized that it was not yet time to tell Ned that he seriously believed that Jon was the _Promised Prince, or The Last Hero, or Azor Ahai_ from the legends and lore _._

' _Perhaps by the time I finish telling him everything, Ned understands the greatness and power that was hidden in the boy who was hiding in the shadows of his castle_.' So Benjen decided to change the subject entirely, to focus Ned on the reasons why he had come to Winterfell.

 _“_ As you know, seventy-five _wards_ have come with me to act as squires and pages at _Winterfell_. Despite the turbulent past between the _wildlings_ and _Northerners_ , they have proven to be good lads, eager to please and gain the trust of the _Freehold._ Many of them have clear that when they reach six and ten days of their name, they will enlist in _the Black Army.”_ said Benjen, assuming that his brother would not ask many questions, but the _Gods_ were not with him on that day.

"Black army?" Ned asked in a hesitant voice.

“I don't know what Ser Jaime, Rhaegar and Jon will be doing with the armies in _Essos_ , but Rikker is bringing the old legions of Valyria to life. It has almost 9,000 men, all enlisted for fifteen years in the _Army of the Freehold_ , that really is the personal army of house Targaryen in Westeros at the moment, because is sworn to Aegon and not to the _Freehold_ itself. They are motivated, becoming professional, eager, hopeful of promotion, and some of the soldiers are so tough they could chew iron bars and shit nails. It is an army that will not be broken and to defeat it, it will be necessary to kill every last of its soldiers. They fight for their lands, their freedom and their families. And there is nothing more powerful than fighting for what is dear to you." Benjen told his brother about Rikker's achievement, with some admiration in his voice.

 _‘No wonder many saw him as the other great candidate for First Ranger when I was elected.’_ Benjen thought to himself about the _King’s guard_ of the Targaryen _._

In the same way, the creation of a permanent army was something that seemed a real stroke of genius on the part of his nephew, since almost all of the military plans were Aegon's. _'Although which of the two Aegon the idea came from, it would always be a doubt unsolved.'_ Benjen affirmed internally.

“But I imagine it will be poorly armed, right? Aren't they mostly _wildlings?"_ asked Ned with a certain contemptuous tone and rejection at the idea.

 _'If Aegon’s uncle reacts like that, I don't want to know the reaction of the High Lords or the Slavers when they learn of the existence of a professional Army at the exclusive and sworn service of house Targaryen.’_ Benjen thought with certain humor.

In the end, much of the power the lords had, rested on their ability to recruit levies from their serfs, servants and sworn people. Most of whom were peasants with no knowledge of war. The existence of a permanent professional army was going to put into question the entire military system of the lords in Westeros. And so he intended to let his brother Ned know.

“That's where you're wrong Ned. They are _citizens and soldiers_ of the _Freehold of Valyria_. Salaried, well fed, and entitled to land and booty. All armors are _Qohori-_ imported, emulating Aegon's armor design in black steel imported from Qohor. Hence the _nickname_ the army has received. The armament of _the Black Army of the North_ it is varied. The standard armament of heavy infantry is a rhomboid shield, long sword, short sword, and a dagger. Add to that a light infantry with maces, axes, double-sided axes, pulleys, or warhammers, depending on the particular soldier. The spearmen are an improved and able to reproduce version of the _Unsullied._ Using 7 meter spears made of oak and finished in half a meter of forged steel pikes." Benjen paused, before the silence and the gesture made by his brother's head, made him continue the description of the army that was being trained at _Forlond._

"The shields of the latter are rectangular almost one meter high, with the option of nailing them to the ground and joining it with that of the spearman on both sides to make a continuous wall of shields. Shield made of _Ironwood_." Benjen concluded with a half smile, at the surprise he had dropped.

 _‘Sometimes it is true when the Free Folk say that we are Southerners and that we do not know the true North_.’

"That's impossible, only the Forrester have access to that kind of wood." Ned negated with his head, as well with his words.

“It turns out that the Forrester are not the only ones in the world who have such trees. _The Enchanted Forest_ is full of them and they are using their wood for everything." Benjen commented wryly, to get a frown and misunderstanding look from his brother. "Archers use a standard longbow of the _Freehold_ made in _ironwood_ , about 1'80 tall, firing up to four hundred meters. Also the crossbows are being made of that wood. Have less range, but serve to cover long fire. _Ironwood_ which is also being trade uninterruptedly to the _Freehold_ provinces of _Essos_."

"All the armament of this army has been forged in the armory of _Forlond_ , the first building to be completed and whose great forge was lit by the fires of _Balerion."_ He paused to let that information sink into his brother Ned. “Donal Noye works as _Master_ _Blacksmith_. This man is the same one who made Robert's hammer. The first creation of said forge was a long sword for Rhaegar, that removing the Valyrian steel, I have not seen such a forged steel work in my life Ned. And although the general quality is not that, most of the work of Noye and his assistants coming from Qohor, has nothing to envy to the work of the best blacksmiths of the street of the steel in _Kings Landing_." Benjen declared with a certain pride for the achievements his nephew and his sister's family were achieving in the _North_.

Although except for fire, they still had no effective weapon against the _wights_ of the _Others_ , it was an army that would not be easily beaten by them without help from their _masters. 'And looking south of the Wall, the Black Army had nothing to envy regarding the lordly armies, perhaps with the exception of the Lannister.'_

Faced with his brother's thoughtful silence, Benjen decided to continue. “It is an army made up almost entirely of infantry, but it is a multi-role infantry, which can move rapidly over long distances. Almost all of the logistics train has sleds or wagons, and sufficient draft animals. It combine light infantry with archers, spearmen and heavy infantry. It's a force to be reckoned with, Ned." Benjen warned about the possibilities of the army that his nephew had ordered to create in order to face the _Others._

“Not to mention the small contingent of ten giants and mammoths, who serve in the auxiliary infantry, which can number up to 15,000 auxiliaries, at the orders of Mance Rayder, under Rikker's leadership. We speak in total of a force of 24,000 men trained as professional soldiers almost for the most part, with forged steel armor and weapons equals to or better than those in the _Seven Kingdoms._ They are no longer rapists, looters, and gangs of armed criminals in bronze, iron, and furs. They are a society that with its pluses and minuses, is beginning to being stable and sedentary. And when that port begin to operate, is going to have a huge commercial, military and human traffic, which will further establish the roots of the new province and the lordship of _Forlond,_ which I remember you, it means _The North Port_." Benjen concluded with a harsher voice than he intended. This made Ned's posture stiffen, as he stared at him questioningly and made a disgusted expression with his face.

“Are you threatening me on behalf of Jon? Is that?" Ned asked angrily and with some pain in the voice.

"No, Ned." Benjen replied calmly and in a conciliatory tone. “I tell you all of this so you know that to the _North_ you have a possible ally, as well as a possible enemy. Ser Jaremy carries out the orders of House Targaryen. Failing that, in the absence of nine of the ten members with the royal ring, Prince Aemon is the one who allows any activity of the army. Don't expect that if something happens to you, Rikker and his 9,000 men will come running to rescue you if you don't negotiate with the old ex-maester beforehand. But have no doubt that if you rebel against _the Freehold_ , or any of your vassals are tempted to do it, in three weeks that army will be knocking on the doors of those who would be consider an enemy of house Targaryen or the _Freehold_ in the _North."_

Thanks to his nephew, Benjen had understood that many times being sincere and direct with his own intentions, it was generally the best way to explain things, without having to go into details that were intended to be avoided.

 _'And by all the Gods that I think to avoid mentioning anything else about Bloodraven.'_ Benjen thought after having mentioned the ten rings. As he let his words sink in on Ned, Benjen decided to continue before Ned asked questions he was in no condition to answer.

“I tell you everything that is happening, because at the same time I want you to understand my position. You wanted me to leave the _Watch_ and get married. I can understand that, Ned. Understand now that my role in the current situation, can be of more help to you than in _Sea Dragonpoint_ and it is not because I do not like the Mormont lasses. It's as Bran told me before leaving for _Essos_. We all have a role to play if we want to defeat the _ultimate enemy_. Many of us would prefer to have another role. Better than anyone, I know that when the time comes, it is very possible that I will be of the first killed in the fight beyond the _Wall_." Before his brother could interrupt him, Benjen waved the left hand stopping any option for Ned’s reply.

“It is something that I have come to terms and accepted since I saw the _Army of the Death._ But that doesn't exempt me from being able to help you while I can. Help you and to the _whole_ family. And that includes avoiding an inside coup of the lords of the _North_ when you tell _everything_. Including what I'm going to tell you about our nephew.” Benjen said, highlighting with his voice the _whole_ _family_ and _everything_.

Ned’s surprised face at the mention that he had to tell everything and that in addition to that, Benjen had to tell something about Jon, were his cue to explain himself.

“You have to tell everything because the _North_ is a _Federated Kingdom_ to the _Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_ and you are the _federated_ _lord_ to the _Freehold._ Ned, you signed the contract and sworn the now _famous_ double oath. You know what that entails.” Benjen smiled, remembering his brother-in-law Rhaegar's cunning at the time of redacting the contract between the _Federated_ to the _Freehold._ “Any Kingdom, Province or City _Federated to the Freehold_ , attacked externally or internally, or incapable of enforcing internal order in its domains, may be immediately annexed as a _Province of the Freehold of Valyria_ by using all the military potential available by House Targaryen. _”_

The clause was really very vague, because practically every sentence could justify the intervention of house Targaryen and therefore, the _Black Army_ and even the dragons if they were present. Or on the contrary, allow a federated kingdom to be conquered by another that is also a federated kingdom, for not considering it as an external attack. "It was something like that what you signed, right?" he asked with some mischief to Ned.

"So is... how do you know about that clause?" his brother Ned asked incredulously and nervously.

"I've heard it enough times to know it, Ned." Benjen replied without saying why he had heard it.

His nephew, sister, and brother-in-law had some concern over a reaction from the _South_ and had left clear orders to Rikker that if the situation in the _North_ could harm the efforts for the _Great War_ , he should simply take command of the _North_ militarily on the basis of said clause.

“Ned, you are going to have to tell the whole truth to the lords of the _North._ That's why I think that since _Winter_ has done the work with his _bastard.”_ Benjen stated while pointing to Lya's wolf. “It is time for the Starks to put an end to the _Red Kings_ blood once and for all. If possible, during _the Harvest Festival_ , publicly and before all the lords of the _North."_ Benjen told his brother firmly and decisively.

It was time for Ned to learn something from the house Stark manual and put aside whatever it was Jon Arryn's goddamn child fucker had taught Ned.

"If we want to survive what lies ahead, we must take examples of the Starks of old, like Cregan, Theon or almost all of the _Winter Kings_ called Brandon." the veracity in Benjen’s words and the conviction he had in them were only reinforced thinking about his nephew Bran. But it was not Benjen’s place to tell the father of said child, that the one who founded the family with magic, ice and blood, was his nine day of the name son.

 _Winter_ , his sister's _Direwolf_ had returned to Winterfell when her mistress left for _Essos,_ to care for Ned and the pups. At least, until the huge she-wolf leaves with Ned in search of the family on the other side of the _Narrow Sea_. On her way south from the _Wall_ , _Winter_ apparently ran into Ramsay Snow, _the bastard_ son of Roose Bolton. Of whom little was known, and the little that was known, made the hair like spikes.

Apparently, the bloodthirsty bastard upon learning that the mythological creature was near the Bolton lands, tried to find _Winter_ with a pack of hunting hounds and some members of the Bolton servants.

But before the Bolton bastard could locate the trail of the great _Direwolf,_ _Winter_ was leaping out of the bushes in front of the bastard, ripping off his jugular, killing him on the spot. Faced with such an action, all the bastard's companions and hounds fled in terror.

Only a few remains of clothing were found from Ramsay's body. Roose Bolton had demanded that the she-wolf be sacrificed, but Ned was not going to do so and was planning to tell Roose Bolton so at _the Harvest Festival_.

But Benjen has other information about Roose, which Aegon had obtained from The _Small Jon_ and which he would have to bring to his brother attention later.

Although Benjen knew that right now he was being the _mouth_ of Aegon, Lyanna, Rhaegar and even to some extent, Bran, Benjen could not miss the opportunity to hammer his brother Ned the policies that he should unfold in the _North._

 _'I trust uncle Ned for the reforms and improvements of the Kingdom, but do I trust him politically? It's an answer that only in time can I tell you uncle.'_ The words of his nephew Jon echoed in Benjen’s head.

If Ned wanted his relationship with the one who until eight moons ago was _his bastard to_ return to certain warmth, Ned would have to go through the ring of Targaryen dominance. Therefore Benjen did not hesitate to put in his mouth the words of _guidance_ that Jon transmitted towards Ned.

“The law of brothels controlled by house Stark must be continues to be applied. Men talk after fucking and we never know who the whore can work for, so it’s better they do it for you Ned." Benjen said crudely and without turning much, to his brother's surprise at his outburst of advice. “Before going to Essos, betroth Robb to Ysilla Royce or marry him to Alys Kastark on the last day _of the Harvest Festival._ Depending on what you do with Robb, then betroth Sansa with someone from the _North_ like a Talhart or Robin Flint and give them _Dreadfort_ and their lands as a dowry." Benjen continued in a clear voice, which although low, was audible to both of them.

"Or if you marry Robb to Alys, betroth Sansa to someone from the Vale, if possible a Royce or else to Lady Waynwood's ward. Rickon, betroth him to the youngest of the Mormont girls and marry one of Lord Manderly's granddaughters to Small Jon. Or if you don't want to give the Umber or Manderly so much power to the point that they become the second great house of the _Kingdom,_ marry him to someone under the current vassalage of Bolton - _Forrester, Dustin and even a Ryswell if there are any girl-_." Taking advantage of his brother's surprise, Benjen decided to continue.

“You must make mountains clans sworn vassals of Rickon's new seat, especially the Flints, the Wulls and the Liddles. Make its people, who are not too different of the _wildlings_ , settle in the lands of _The Ned's_ youngest son _._ With all this, you would kill two birds with one stone. The problem of population dispersion in the _North_ and you eliminate the possibility of a future internal rebellion before it is even conceived.” concluded Benjen with a determined voice and sure of what he was saying.

Ned looked at him between astonished, thoughtful and worried. Some wrinkles were beginning to appear on Ned’s face and eyes, as well as some other gray in his dark brown hair. Ned’s mouth was half open as his eyes gazed at Benjen examining him and the wisdom, or lack thereof, in Benjen’s words.

"Where did you get all this political knowledge of the _North_?" Ned asked him in a voice that showed between astonishment and admiration.

Benjen certainly couldn't tell his brother Ned that all he was saying was repeating the general opinion of the Targaryen council. There was a good chance that this would provoke Ned's resistance to it.

“I've been fourteen years at the _Wall_ , Ned. I have had a lot of time to think and get to know the _North_. You know better than anyone to what extent I felt responsible for the _Rebellion_. If I had spoken at Harrenhal with you and Brandon, maybe everything would have been different…” It was not the absolute truth what Benjen was saying to his brother, but it was not a lie either.

Benjen was facing the holy _Weirwood_ of _Winterfell_. His guilt for having been unable to prevent a war that Benjen knew from the beginning was unjust, led him at the time to gladly accept black as punishment for his actions and silences. It was time to do something for everything that at the time he didn’t do.

“Well let's get out of politics for a while Benjen. How is the family? How are Arya and Bran? How is Lya doing being among the living again?” Benjen’s mood must have grew dark, and his brother must have noticed, so Ned asked suddenly, radically changing the subject.

“Arya and Lya are continually being instructed as _Crown Princess_ of House Targaryen. Between the old maester and Rhaegar, they are achieving with our sister and your daughter what neither you, nor father could do with them. It seems that to tame _a wild She-wolf you_ need a _Dragon_.” Benjen told his brother with quite irony, which with his sister still dead, would have been totally out of place.

But Benjen was glad to have his sister again and what that entailed. _‘I will never stop being his annoying little brother.’_ He thought warmly on the inside.

Ned’s surprise was obvious. _Gods_ , if Benjen hadn't seen the two spend hours studying _Westeros'_ houses, sigils, and history, he'd have a hard time believing it too. Lya had even started taking lessons in military strategy and tactics, much to Benjen sister's delight.

“They also practice archery, fencing and horse riding every day. Rhaegar has even gifted Lya with _Lord Brynden Rivers'_ ancient weirwood bow _,_ which had been left behind in the custody of Maester Aemon." He said with a huge smile to Ned.

If his niece and sister had something in common, it was that they were both free spirits, who had to be nurtured and not repressed. And that was exactly what Jon and Rhaegar did with the two of them. Give them all the tools at their disposal, to enable them to successfully carry out roles and functions typically restricted to the male gender. "Lya could possibly already defeat Robb with her sword and shield in a _sparring."_ Benjen jokingly added.

"Hahaha! You don't know what weight you take from my soul Benjen. Knowing that they are well and being true to their true essence, reassures me a lot about their departure with Aegon.” Ned said in a relaxed voice and with some warmth.

“Your two children are as close as ever, Ned. They’re both squires of the two Targaryen in practical. Sometimes they look like Aegon's shadows, for they are always three steps behind him." Benjen communicated to his brother with affection when remembering the image. _'If they had white cloaks, they could be his little King’s Guards_. _'_

“Arya has developed the habit of sweeping the floor of the sparring site with Bran's ass, much to Bran’s irritation. However in archery, Bran is practically better than me. I don't think he will ever become a swordsman like Rhaegar, or a warrior like Aegon. But as an archer and commanding armies, Bran has everything it takes to be one of the best ever.” Benjen told Ned proudly of his nephew and niece.

Ned's smile, mixed with his warm gaze but on the verge of tears, showed how much his brother loved his children and like Benjen, was proud of them.

“Those certainly sound like my kids. But everything you tell me sounds too good. Where is the but Benjen?" his brother Ned asked him now, the gaze harder than before and in a less relaxed position.

Benjen knew that to reassure his brother of the veracity of Benjen’s words, he had to say everything he knew. Or at least everything he could tell without going into blood magic, rituals and legends coming to life. Therefore, Benjen decided to comment on what he did not know if he was concerned or saddened, about their sister.

“However, Lya's return to life seems to have affected her. There are moments when she seems off and without that spark that she had before the _Rebellion_. On the other hand, it seems that neither she nor Jon are able to understand what is the essence of a mother-child relationship. They have something akin to a sister and brother relationship, which makes Lyanna sometimes seem like she doesn't know how to interact with him. Really, except for Rhaegar, the person closest to her is Arya. They see and recognize each other as sisters, rather than as aunt and niece, both having their devotion to Aegon in common. The latter loves them both madly and I have no doubt that Lya adores him. I think that Jon just hasn't had time to process that his mother is with him yet."

“And Jo-Aegon? How is he assuming his role? Is he still cold as ice with his father?" Ned asked with undoubted warmth in his voice, but some concern. Without a doubt, his brother's question gave Benjen the cue he wanted to deepen in the figure of his nephew.

The absence of questions about Rhaegar's condition and well-being did not surprise Benjen, although the playful touch Ned’s tone had when mentioning the initially strained relationship between the _Silver Prince_ and _The Dragon Reborn_ show some bitterness from Ned at Rhaegar _._

 _'Without a doubt, after the resurrection of the three, the mutual doubts between father and son must have been even more evident than at the Wall.'_ thought Benjen on the subject.

He could never be counted as a close friend of his brother-in-law, but they had a cordial relationship and mutual respect, allowing Benjen to know facets of the more private Rhaegar that not everyone knew. On the other hand, Jon was his favorite nephew and knew him perfectly.

 _'Or at least that was true until before the Visenya ritual. Still, I think I know him better than his own father and Ned_. _'_ That is why he understood the problems that initially reigned between the resurrected and forever unknown father, with respect to his son in the process of assimilating his true kinship.

Although they both has similar personalities, Jon is sharper than Rhaegar and more calculating. However, Aegon is also more prone to act on impulse than Rhaegar, who sometimes overthink things instead of acting.

In the same way, the fact of having grown up as a _bastard_ and in the _North_ , plus experiencing the life of the _Conqueror_ first hand, had made of Aegon a very pragmatic, direct and at times unforgiving person. Sometimes his kingly nephew had a certain point of cynicism and sarcastic attitude that showed his ability to live with the worst that life could put him in front of.

Rhaegar on the other hand, although a man adored by the _common_ _people_ , could count with the fingers of the hands how many times he had slept in conditions typical of the _common_ _people_. Rhaegar was prone to idealism, rhetoric and sometimes he was too benevolent. This, coupled with a somewhat romantic, almost naive, vision on some aspects of life, led Rhaegar to internal conflict when he was not able to accept reality above his ideals.

Inevitably both personalities reached the point of collision, after which fortunately, they ended up understanding.

 _'Sometimes I do not know how the matter would have ended if it were not for the appearance of the Great Jon and his men.'_ Thinking about that directed his thoughts towards another of the key reasons for Benjen’s visit to _Winterfell_.

“Ned there is something else you should know and it is better that you know it from me than through for others. _Great_ Jon and the Umber vassals know of _Forlond_ and _Tar-nu Fuin_ and have bended the knee to Jon _._ ” Benjen said suddenly and dryly to Ned.

His brother was looking at Benjen as if he had suddenly grown a second head. Possibly if he hadn't witnessed it all, he wouldn't believe it either. But nevertheless, Benjen witnessed everything that happened on the _Wall_ in those almost three weeks in the old _Eastwatch_ before the departure to _Essos_ of his nephew and his entourage.

"How is it possible?" simply asked Ned.

“Shortly after I arrived at _Eastwacht By the Sea,_ the mass of _the Free Folk_ did the same. There were moments of certain general lack of control and mistrust. The _Watch_ had not yet left the old fortress, nor were all the brothers very much in agreement with the treatment made by Mormont and the rest of the high hierarchy of my brothers with our nephew. This led to high tensions with the newcomers. Some of this newcomers, thought that breaking a double oath sworn to a Targaryen was a minor thing." Benjen would tell his brother in a low, broken tone, remembering those feverish days as if he were reliving them.

“One of these wretches who had accepted the _citizenship_ of the _Freehold_ but not its laws, nor the atmosphere that was breathed at that time in _Eastwacht,_ had no better idea than to go to the Umber lands and rape the child of a farmer of less ten days of the name. After that, he brutally murdered him. Not happy with his work, the foul thing tried to do the same with the mother of the child, who until then had been forced to contemplate everything. At that moment _Small Jon_ passed near the cabin, heard the screams and the commotion, apprehending the _wildling_ at the moment. In exchange for the Umber sparing his life, the wildling told them everything that was happening at the _Wall…_ But the version that the _wildling_ had wanted to understand…and the one that the _Great Jon_ wanted to understand.” said Benjen with a bitter and pained tone.

The lies of six and ten years ago had resurfaced in that moment, and they would do so again in three moons. Ned was beginning to frown and look disgusted, although made a gesture with the hand, as if to continue with the narration, so Benjen did.

“The _wildling’s_ explanation made the _Great Jon_ think that Rhaegar, the rapist of his boyhood love, Lyanna, survived after the Trident, living beyond the _Wall_. And now Rhaegar, was leading the _wildlings_ as _King-from-Beyond-the-Wall_ and setting them up in the eastern part _of Brandon's Gift_." He concluded in anger at the trouble the foul bastard wildling nearly caused.

“While that was going on the Umber lands, between Aegon, Rhaegar, Rikker, Mance, and myself, we managed to bring order to the _Wall._ Not without some heads rolling on both sides. The _reprimand_ of Aegon to _his citizens,_ climbed astride his dragon is something I will not forget in my life." Benjen said as he shook the head and clasped his hands nervously.

Try as he might, Benjen was still struggling to reconcile the boy he had known, with the man that was in his place now. Jon had changed and it wasn't just the hair coloring. And that was something Ned had to know before _the Harvest Festival._

"Seriously Ned, sometimes I find it hard to see a trace of the brooding pouting boy who was hiding in the shadows of this castle...That hardness and implacability that he has now…I don't know where it came from ..." Benjen said with a hint of doubt and with some fear. However, he stopped, to emphasize in a warm voice that the Jon they knew still existed.

“He still has a heart of gold, but for him to show it you have to earn his trust and for that you have to move the mountains more or less. And the greatest example of that is his relationship with his father, Rhaegar." Benjen sentenced, hinting to his brother that he was preparing to clarify his previous doubt.

"Rhaegar was having a lot of problems in his relationship with Jon for continued discussions on the positions to adopt towards the _essosi_ slavers nobility and some _Westeros_ noble houses. This subject opened a gap between the two, because our nephew did not quite trust that his father had realizing that to carry out parts of their plan, they cannot allow themselves to be seen as weak or soft, nor to be idealistic. For his part Rhaegar thought that Jon might have the problem of having too much power without any check … you know… _Harrenhal_ , _Field of Fire_ , the wars against _Volantis_ in _Essos_ …” said Benjen, hinting perfectly what he meant.

 _'The use of Balerion as a weapon of war.’_ thought that made Benjen ran a shudder down his spine.

“This reached its boiling point when Rhaegar, through Lya who had befriended one of the _wildling_ woman _,_ learned about the _Call to The True Struggle_ or _The Speech to the Free Folk_. As you prefer the song and the bard who sings it. Or what is the same, how Jon managed to win over 127,000 _wildlings_ that appear in the official census of the _Province of Tar-nu Fuin_." He said with some admiration in his voice at the achievements of his nephew.

"Rhaegar suddenly appeared maddened in the courtyard, eyes blazing and transmitting a fury that caused dread to those who watched him. There was where Jon was _sparring_ with Ser Jaremy and Sigorn Thenn, _at the same time."_ Benjen commented casually on the latter, still not wanting to delve into _Aegon._

Ned shot him a look and a questioning gesture, as if asking how long has Jon been able to fight with two people at the same time, but the story itself would explain everything, so Benjen decided to continue with the narrative.

"Without a word, Rhaegar landed a right punch to Jon's jaw, calling him _Maegor Reborn_ and that he was ashamed to have for a son someone who had considered ending all _Free_ _Folk_ if they didn't join him." Benjen said almost laughing as he remembered Jon's shocked and incredulous face at his furious father.

 _'In the end the only thing Rhaegar needed to win the respect and affection of his son was to awaken his inner Dragon.'_ Benjen mused to himself.

Without a doubt, the members of the _Forty Families_ , truly did possess dragon blood. When this appears in a Targaryen, they are human dragons and as such, they solve their disputes.

“I never thought I would say these words, but Rhaegar is right. That's not the boy I raised…I don't understand why you laugh when Jon has turned into a tyrant.”said his brother Ned censuringly and with evident disgust in his voice.

To prevent his brother from doing the same as his brother-in-law, Benjen quickly interrupted him. He raised the left hand to allow him to finish before jumping to the wrong conclusions.

“As with your reaction now, Rhaegar didn't know the idea had come from Bran and more as an empty threat than actually _a card to play_. Jon wanted that there was no population beyond the _Wall_ and he thought that that, would at least convince them to seek protection on this side of the _Wall_ , even if it was on the terms established by him ... Besides, it is not such a mad idea, although it may seem excessive and drastic. We know and we have proven that everything that dies north of the _Wall_ comes back to _life_ , if you can call that that, _enslaved_ by the _Others._ If by any chance all those people decided to stay on the other side, possibly they would have ended up recruited as _puppets_ of the _Others._ ” concluded Benjen his defense of Jon in his _Call_ _to_ _the Free Folk_ , while trying to draw a thick veil on a new direct participation of Bran in the events.

His brother Ned was so shocked to hear his son's name and what it was associated with that Ned’s face turned almost the color of the _Heart Tree._ "From Bran?" asked almost choking, Ned.

Of course, the _new Bran_ was a subject that Benjen wanted to talk as little as possible with his brother. Anything Benjen explained was going to be worse, and Ned was leaving for _Essos_ in less than five moons.

 _'Seeing him in the flesh, surely Ned can better understand what Bran is now.'_ thought Benjen seeking some consolation on how his brother would take the news that his second son was the reincarnation _of the Builder_ , as well as the _Last Greenseer_ and the _Three-Eyed Raven_. _'And I don't want to imagine Ned's reaction when witnesses the scars of the interaction between Bloodraven and Bran.'_ so Benjen tried to quickly steer Ned’s attention from Bran, albeit without lying

“Bran took the idea from a book about the _Wars_ of _Jon Stark …_ He is the third in command practically after Jon and Rhaegar, but… but Bran has experienced things that are not mine to tell. I can only tell you that one day you will be very proud of him, even if you may not understand his past or future actions."

"Past?" his brother said almost choking on his words. The face and voice of Benjen’s brother denoted a misunderstanding that in a way made Benjen feel sorry for Ned. But if he tell Ned the story of what had happened to his nephew Brandon, Benjen first doubted that his brother believed him in the slightest and if he did, Ned was capable of bolting towards _Essos_ at that moment.

"As I did tell you Ned, it's not my story to tell." Benjen said in a way that implied that he would not speak more about Bran's powers.

"Okay, continue with the fight of the _Dragons."_ his brother Ned pronounced with a certain bitter aftertaste in the tone.

"Ha! It's funny, that's what they call it among the population of _Forlond_." Benjen replied with certain humor thinking about how the societies on both sides of the wall called an episode, in which father and son aired their problems in the _old fashion way._

From what Benjen had seen among the _Free Folk_ , sometimes these father and son disputes were resolved in the same way even nowadays, so he didn't understand why was getting so much hype the subject. And even the Starks' vassalage on _Bear Island_ was won with a fist fight.

 _'Maybe it will be because no one has seen two Targaryen fight with fists before between each other.'_ Benjen thought trying to find the explanation why people seemed so fascinated by the fact that Jon and Rhaegar beat the shit out of each other. However, Benjen did not tell his brother anything of his misunderstanding, whom awaited tensely and scowling for Benjen to continue his narration of the events in _Forlond._

“Total, the bluff that Jon threw before the _Free Folk_ to urge them to join his cause, almost two months after saying it, ended up turning into a bare-knuckle fight between father and son. During this fight they said each other everything they had for the other, while Bran and I held Lya and Arya so they wouldn't intervene." Benjen sentenced trying to relativize the seriousness of the dispute and the matter.

"Why didn't you do anything to stop that fight Benjen?" Ned said with a tone of absolute reproach and accusation.

“Because those two had to solve the problems they had sooner or later. One saw in his father someone weak and soft, irresolute and incapable of doing his duty. All this for a _failure,_ that if you look at it carefully, Rhaegar had almost no way of avoiding it, even if he had deposed the _mad king_ after _Dunksdale_. The point is that while Jon saw Rhaegar as a possible weakness, the father feared that his son would become a tyrant or a potential Aerys." Benjen replied calmly, explaining how that situation had come about by seeing it up close and with insider information from within the Targaryen circle.

"Why is that?" Ned asked inquisitively, with some reproach still present in his voice.

"Lya told me the way Aegon spoke of the _Conquest_ in your solar the night of the _ritual_ and after seeing him perform with some men on the _Wall_ and with the _Free Folk_ during the disorders ... if I had not known what had transpired before to the false threatens the _Free Folk,_ I too would have thought that he could have meant it. But before drawing conclusions I would have asked Jon." Benjen confessed in all seriousness to his brother.

“The fundamental problem really was that Rhaegar still didn't really knew Jon well, nor did they have the confidence that they now have. So instead of doing as you or I would have done, asking him first about his words and the truth behind them, _The Dragon in_ Rhaegar immediately came to the conclusion that Jon was willing to kill thousands of people, by the mere fact that he’s able to do it." Benjen concluded bitterly.

Ned did not seem to have been very convinced by all that Benjen said and had a certain worried face. Surely, Ned might think that with the ritual and his resurrection, maybe Jon could incur in the Targaryen madness.

 _'Another myth spread by the victorious side of the Rebellion.'_ Madness actually only affected seven of house Targaryen members throughout its history, but it was so accentuated on Aerys that it marked part of _Westerosi_ society _._

 _'The problem with the Targaryen is that. Everything is extreme. When they are bright, they are extremely bright; when they’re mediocre, they’re extremely mediocre and when they’re mad, they are extremely mad. And madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin, both of which are impossible without each other. That's why the Targaryen always find the third way. It is never black or white. It's all gray for them.'_ Benjen reflected now that he had had a chance to meet two Targaryen who were the epitome of what it was to be descended from _Old_ _Valyria_ and _Dragonlords_.

Benjen knew that for his part, Ned had certain acquired prejudices about house Targaryen, which were reaffirmed at the time by the sadistic and criminal treatment of their father and brother at the hands of the _Mad King_. This leads to any action taken by Aegon and Rhaegar being judged negatively beforehand. And not only by Ned, but in the near future that would be the reaction by almost the entirety of _Westeros_.

“For you to rest calm, apart from the ten citizens of the _Freehold_ tried and executed for break the laws of the _Freehold_ , by the scum of a _wildling_ who called himself the _Rattleshirt_ and except for the sentence to the rapist in Umber lands, Aegon did not kill anyone else. And the ten whom he had executed, was with the same desire and the same pleasure that you take with _Ice_ when you do it. If it weren't for his silver hair, it would have been like seeing you in pretty, executing some deserter." Benjen said with some sarcasm at the end, though coldly and firmly the rest of the time.

"What do you mean Ben?" Ned asked with a tone of doubt, without understanding that what Benjen was trying to do was to calm Ned down and reassure him that their nephew was perfectly sane and was neither a sadist nor a tyrant.

"Fortunately or unfortunately, you have educated him in the ways of the _North_ and you know _'Who he passes the sentence …’_ For that reason, Jon is neither Maegor, nor the _Mad King_. Jon is the _fucking_ _Conqueror_ , who by the way, what a coincidence, it is very well documented that also passed the sentence three hundred years ago”

Benjen said a little exasperated, because in the _Citadel's_ own memoirs and scripts there were exact descriptions of how _the Conqueror_ _was_ and how his nephew _is_. And despite having read them Benjen never put all the pieces together and seen who Jon really was. Not to mention that those writings testimonies made the verisimilitude of the entire _ritual_ unquestionable. ' _The one who believed himself Jon Snow, conquered the Seven Kingdoms.’_

Ned looked at him with a mixture of relief as well as some respect, for who his nephew was now. And that for Benjen was exactly the problem. Jon now commanded a respect like no person he had ever met.

“But that's not what makes me _uneasy_ about the _new_ Jon, Ned. It's what happened after the fight and how _the Great Jon_ was introduced to a _Dragon_ what makes me it _."_ Benjen said now shakily, causing his brother to close his gaze on him even more.

“While the fight between father and son was taking place, we did not know it, but _the Great_ _Jon_ , along with _the Small_ _Jon_ and a contingent of two hundred men on horseback had marched towards _Eastwacht_ with the _wildling_ as prisoner and witness days ago. And they were arriving to _Eastwacht_ by the time the _fight_ of _Dragons_ was at its height." Benjen said with a certain aftertaste and the same low tone only audible to him and Ned.

“At that point Lyanna broke out of my control and tried to get between father and son. The same way Arya tried to stop Jon. During the father-son fight, the winged mounts of both _Dragonlords_ were _dancing_ in the air over the _Bay of Seals,_ while the _four_ _direwolves_ threatened the newcomers Umber. As can you imagine, an unusual and quite terrifying scene." Benjen told Ned, while his brother widened the eyes and raised the right eyebrow in a way that seemed to want to escape from Ned’s forehead.

“When the chaos seemed like it couldn't get any worse, pandemonium was formed. _The Great Jon_ recognized Arya and thought that Rhaegar had kidnapped her, _to do with her the same as with Lyanna_ , although with much foul words, calling him from rapist up and making references to house Targaryen that in the _Freehold_ are punished with the death. Whereupon _The Great Jon_ drew his great sword and spurred his horse in the direction of Rhaegar, Bran was able to warn our brother-in-law just in time to avoid losing off his head, but unfortunately, Lya was not so fortunate and suffered a superficial cut on her right shoulder, immediately falling to the ground.” Benjen expressed with some regret.

"What happened to Lya? She’s fine?" Ned asked worriedly.

"Easy, she is fine, it only required seven stitches and it was superficial." He immediately told Ned in a more reassuring voice and continued with the story.

“As Lyanna fell to the ground, both dragons immediately stopped fighting between them and let out a thunderous roar that nearly collapsed the _Wall_ , to then begin descending quick as arrows towards the assembled Umber men. But before the dragons even arrived, or I or anyone else present could even react to what was going to happen, Jon with his blunt training sword and a round shield of the _Watch_ that had been around, launched himself for the _Great Jon_ and for the _Small Jon at the same time_. Although the latter was only around and hadn't even drawn his sword or spoken." Benjen was telling his brother, unable to hide the amazement in his voice. _‘You had to have them very well on to go after the Great Jon. Going after him and his heir was something beyond the reach of a mortal.’_

“In less than a blink, both Umber were unmounted from their horses. _Small Jon_ was knocked unconscious just as he fell to the ground. However, _Great Jon_ was totally out of his mind and charged at Jon as if there was nothing else in the world.” he said seriously, with a certain bitter aftertaste at the blindness from hatred that had possessed _Great Jon._

As Benjen told him all this, Ned has opened his eyes and mouth even more, if that was possible. The expression of disbelief on his brother's typically stoic face was priceless.

"Do you remember when Robb was training with Jon, how many times it seemed like Jon was playing with him until suddenly, Jon always lost?" Benjen asked his brother, leaving Ned not understanding for what that reference was coming from.

"Yes, what does it have to do with this and the _Great Jon_?" Ned asked with incomprehension.

"That's _exactly_ what Aegon did with _The Great Jon, play with him_. But without losing." He told with a certain reverence in the voice and continued “Almost without breaking a sweat, Aegon began to tell the _Great Jon_ his whole story, including that of Rhaegar and Lyanna, while playing with the giant Umber, dodging, parrying or repelling his blows as if the _Great Jon_ was a mere child with a wooden _stick_ and not the huge man with a fucking huge sword and very fast for his size. Lyanna also contributed with comments from where she was being treated by maester Aemon, assuring the _Great Jon_ that it was her, trying to stop the fight."

“When they finished telling him everything and _the Great Jon_ maintained the hostility, our nephew Aegon got _bored_ of _playing_ with the _Giant Umber_. All of a sudden, Aegon dropped his shield and with a speed that I have never seen or think I will see again, he dodged a blow that would have cut him in the middle by leaning on his heels and arching his back backwards. At the same time that he turned his body to get parallel to the Umber's greatsword. As it passed over him, Aegon sprang to his feet, stomping first on the giant Umber's right knee, bending it inward. Before anyone could process what Jon had just done, he landed a two-handed blow with the blunt sword in _Great Jon's_ deft hand _, so hard_ that he dropped the sword on the spot and began to howl in pain. _The Great Jon_ tried to grab his hand with his other hand. But due to the blow to the knee the _Great Jon_ lost the stability and fell to the ground screaming in pain." Benjen concluded the explanation of the encounter between the Umber and the _Dragons_.

Ned let out a sigh of surprise and admiration, the gaze reflecting total shock. Ned’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets and the mouth was open to the point that Benjen was sure his brother's jaw would hurt later.

“Ned, our nephew made _the Great Jon_ cry in _pain_. Aegon broke the Umber hand and three fingers. From the rumors that have reached me, one of the toughest and most bloodthirsty _wildlings_ I have ever met, second only to the _Weeper_ in cruelty, _Rattleshirt_ threatened Bran before the gathering with the _wildlings._ Aegon cut him in the middle from shoulder to hip with a _single_ blow. And that was before the _wildling_ even realized what was happening. That episode was why he never went into details about his meeting with the Free Folk and for why Rhaegar or Lya never learned from Aegon what transpired between him and the Free Folk. Because he doesn't enjoy killing. And less so in a brutally manner, so Aegon was afraid of being judged by his family as a monster." Benjen explained with some sadness to his brother. Sadness that Jon thought that his family was going to leave him aside, for protect them with all the means at Aegon’s disposal. Even if this mean cut an enemy in the middle.

“After the fight between Jon and Rhaegar. And after how Jon defended his parents' honor against the _giant_ Umber, they finally had an open conversation where they learned to trust each other. Since then, Aegon and Rhaegar became inseparable. By the time they marched to _Braavos_ they began to form an unstoppable tandem, which was in total harmony at all levels. Both on a political level, as with a sword in hand. From the day of the fight onwards, they both began training for three hours in the morning each day. First an hour between the two of them and then, the two of them against four or eight rivals, depending on the _mood of both_. Finally an hour sparring with Bran, Lya and Arya. After that every day, they spent another two or three hours with Lyanna, Maester Aemon, Arya and Bran discussing policies, movements and strategies.” Benjen explained to his brother how the two Targaryen went from punching each other to had something resembling a relation between a father and a son.

"Arya and Bran?" Ned asked incredulously.

"Yes Ned. Arya and Bran. I repeat, except for Aegon who has the last word, the power of the five that left from here is similar. In the same way that it will have happened with Rhaella, Rhaenys and Ser Jaime. Jon doesn't mind being the _figurehead_ of everything, but if you are with him, you have to be an equal with him. That includes being able to navigate any situation that Aegon might get involved with. It's our nephew’s command style. He makes known what he intends, knowing and trusting that his entire inner circle would successfully resolve the situation, reaching the final objective for the intended. This reaches the point that Lya in the near time, may end up commanding an army.” he told his brother about his nephew's modus operandi and how Aegon delegated power. The best example was Bran, but Benjen couldn't justify in any way that Ned's son was the _Master of Whispers_ _of the Freehold of Valyria and Westeros_ , without telling his story. For this reason he proceeded to continue with the narration of his family's stay in _Forlond._

“In the afternoons, the five after their lunch, walked through the great camp of the _wildlings_ , getting to know them and taking care of their needs. Looking jobs for the people and helping them in what they could. That when Rhaegar and Jon were not in their dragons helping in the new constructions or forming part of the lines of people who pulled the pulleys to lift stones in the new constructions on the south side of the _Wall.”_ Benjen said with pride as his nephew, despite to the power he now possessed, was still one more despite everything.

“For everything you have tell me, our nephew will be the best King this continent is going to have in hundreds of years. Possibly since himself, Jaehaerys or Daeron the second. Although this dislodge me and it is still difficult for me to accept some things, brother. When I already thought that I was being able to internalize and grasp everything that happened more than eight moons ago, what you tell me distorts any mental image that I had created in any plane. What you are describing to me, seems more like something out of the legends than normal people. However they are our family. That makes it difficult to reconcile with everything that one has mentally established. I imagine it must have been like that for the relatives of people like _Symeon Star-Eyes, Florian_ or _Brandon the Builder._ Possibly in hundreds of years they will sing songs about Jon, Lya, Rhaegar and even about Arya and Bran. How do you think we will go down in history Ben?" asked Ned with curiosity and already totally relaxed.

It seemed that knowing the future of his family and the path of greatness that lay before them, had reassured him and even in a way, reassured Ned that was doing the right thing.

However, Benjen needed to be completely honest with his brother about Jon and because he had begun to believe the same as Rhaegar and Bran; That is that Aegon is the only one that could end with the coming of a _second darkness._

"But there is something else Ned." Benjen told his brother with some seriousness, whom noticed the sudden change in Benjen’s attitude and voice.

"So I must think that everything you've told me before this is bullshit?" Ned asked with disgust and reproach.

"No Ned. Everything I have told you, is as it was and is. But that is not the problem. What worries me and more is what dislodges me about the _new_ Jon, is that he himself is a weapon to kill. Aegon himself is who has _power_. I think our nephew scares me more with _Blackfyre_ in hand than astride on the _Black Dread._ And I am especially scared when someone in the family is threatened. I don't want to know what Aegon would do in retaliation if someone would do something to what he considers to be his family circle or those who are innocent." Benjen said with a trembling voice full of concern to his brother.

He knew that the _new_ Jon would be ruthless with anyone who tried to harm those he considered family. And Ned needed to understand and internalize it as well. “Seriously Ned, our nephew enjoyed humiliating _the Great Jon_. But if something serious would had happened to Lyanna or Rhaegar, I have no doubt that Aegon would have separated the _Great Jon’s_ head from the shoulders in less than a blink with his bare hands and then, given it to _Balerion_ for dessert."

"Why are you telling me all this now, Ben?" asked his brother puzzled and with some concern on his face.

“Ned, when Jon fought the Umber, I realized that the one who was fighting was not human, much less our nephew. It was something else. It was a _Dragon._ His predatory gaze, his bodily security, his voracious half smile ... I am telling you all this so that you realize that even if only eight moons have passed, just like me you have to accept that our nephew Jon died in the crypts and instead, now our nephew is _Aegon The Dragon Reborn_." He explained to his brother, trying to convince himself at the same time.

“Although he has the body of a boy of five and ten days of his name, his speed and his strength do not belong to this world. And I think there is no one to stop him with a sword in hand. Aegon seems immune to the cold. Our _new_ nephew possesses the warlike experience of someone who has fought and _won_ hundreds of battles. Has extensive construction, engineering and architectural knowledge. On top of that, since he had come back to life, our nephew has already formed four provinces in his quest to resurrect the _Freehold;_ _The Lost Daughter, The Daughter of Steel, The Forest Beneath the Shadow, and Valyria over the Rhoyne._ Aegon now roughly commands around ten to fifteen million people as subjects, fully and firmly controlling the Northwest of _Essos_."

No doubt talking out loud about Benjen nephew's accomplishments and exploits made them more real and therefore at least a little easier to process. _‘I hope it's the same for Ned_.’

In addition, Ned needed to know not only because his nephew was involved, but because he had to have all the possible information in hand for the time of the _Festival_. If Ned knows exactly who the Jon is after the _ritual_ is, it will be easier for him to deny false accusations about possible tyranny, madness or brutality.

In calm, if slightly shaky voice, Benjen continued to share the details of the _new_ Jon with his brother Ned.

“Remember the child rapist the Umber brought with them to the _Wall_? It is seen that Elia's death marked Jon in some ways. When the Umber told our nephew of the situation in which _the wildling_ was found _,_ Aegon did not blink. He simply said in his usual metallic tone, to prepare a stump in the center of where the Tower-Citadel of _Barad-Suvion is rising_[ ** _[1]_**](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/50251658?view_adult=true#_ftn1). When everything was ready, he passed sentence and cut off his head as if the matter was not even with him. After that, Aegon asked everyone to move at least fifty meters away from the site where the wildling had been executed and where the deep foundations of the tower would be excavated." Without realizing it, Benjen was reliving the events as he recounted them, causing his tone to get lower and lower, being unable to prevent a little trembling from him.

“Our nephew then climbed astride onto _Balerion_ , spoke a few words in _Valyrian_ and incinerated the corpse and the ground surface, until at some points the earth itself began to melt from the heat, resembling _obsidian_. When the flames dissipated, there was a gully twice the amount you say was on the _First Keep_ site. That dragon can pulverize anything Ned." He confessed to Ned with far more fear than he wanted to admit, the healthy respect Benjen had developed for his nephew's dragon and why.

However, with all of this, Benjen wanted to make his brother see the new reality that they should be vigilant of. Preventing something that would trigger Jon's more implacable side from happening.

“You have seen its flame in the first person as I have. You know that there will be no one to stop Aegon. And they will try to hurt him where it hurts the most and where he is most vulnerable. And that will be our family. The Starks. That's why now more than ever you have to be a _pack_ and follow him, because if one of us suffers a mishap or the gods don't want it, someone thinks of betraying us and giving us Robert, Aegon will release the seven hells on _Westeros_."

"Why are you telling me all this, if at the same time you tell me that you are proud of Aegon and think he is the ideal leader for what is coming?" Ned asked a bit out of place and decomposed after what Benjen had told him about the nephew they has in common.

“Because sooner or later, here will be discussed Aegon’s actions in the _North_ and in _Essos_. And it is better that you know first-hand how and who your nephew is, than through rumors and exaggerations. And not only will it be known here and you know it, brother. Soon rumors and news will cross the _Neck_. Fortunately, all the _noise_ they are making in _Essos_ will make the events that have happened here in the _North less likely._ You know, _we are barbarians, savages with excess of imagination and time_.” Benjen said the last with absolute contempt for the southerners, for the widespread image that exists of the north, at the south of the _Neck._

“Soon the rumors and stories will become more and more exaggerated, crazier and reaching a wider audience. In _Tar-nu Fuin,_ some think that Aegon is one of the _Old Gods_ who walks among mortals again. Some _citizens_ from _Essos_ _venerate_ him as _Aegon The Liberator or Aegon The Lord of Valyria._ Not to mention that Visenya's nickname seems to be the most widely used, _The Dragon Reborn._ Although many directly opt for _The Dragon_ or _Dragon King."_ Benjen told his brother with a certain humorous tone, but for some reason, his voice was shaky as he enumerated the list of names earned by his nephew.

 _'Some even justifiable.'_ Benjen asserted to himself, with some surprise and admiration for Jon.

“Great Jon despite his first meeting with Aegon, kisses the ground where Aegon has walked, in the same way that his son does. The Umber iron mines and sawmills have never been so busy. The Umber are turning to gold and they know thanks to whom. Not to mention they are ultra loyal to Lyanna to death. If they were blond with violet eyes, they could very well be Velaryon for their conduct towards the Targaryen." Benjen explained with some humor to his brother, who looked at him in surprise when Ned found out that one of his most faithful vassals had become one of the most staunch subjects and loyalists of the Targaryen.

_'The Long Night is coming. I doubt that this would be possible otherwise.’_

“It's something you're going to have to get used to, just like Robb. The _North_ supports House Stark unconditionally for the most part, but there are now two factions in House Stark. The second of which really is House Targaryen." Benjen tried to reaffirm his brother, but it is clear that the words chosen by him were not the most appropriate.

Although this new division of loyalties was a great plus for the meeting with _the Lords of the North_ , his brother surely have not been amused that any of them could think that Jon could command the _North_ equal to or better than Ned himself.

Although his brother in this should be calm. ' _Neither Jon, nor Lya, nor any future descendants between my sister and Rhaegar if any, have interests in the North.’_

“On the other hand, the Manderly as lords of the port that many of the specialists I see in the _New Winterfell_ are arriving at _,_ or that which is diverted to the Moat of the _Moat_ , I don't know if they already know or not. But they must suppose something, since the _braavosi_ ships sail under the flag of the _Freehold_ and are leaving hundreds of thousands of gold _dragons_ with the faces of our nephew and our brother-in-law struck on the coins, in _White Harbor_. Not to mention, that the visit to the _Lord of the Mermaids_ by the special envoys of the _Free Bank of Valyria,_ it must not have gone unnoticed by the plump lord either." He said with a bit of superiority to his brother "It is because of all this that you must tell everything in _The Harvest Festival."_ Benjen concluded.

Ned sighed with resignation, leaving the body in a half defeated posture, but exuded a certain acceptance and decision about what Benjen’s brother had to do.

Once everything was exposed, it was clear why the lords of the _North_ needed to know all the details and information possible. If Ned wanted to maintain his control over his domains, Ned should be the one who supplied all the information to his vassals, before it reached them distorted from other sources, causing a possible schism with house Stark . And that was something Jon, Lya, and his brother-in-law had made clear to Benjen was the last thing they wanted in the _North._

 _‘Although in the rest of Westeros his strategy will be based precisely on dissension and confusion, Jon sees the North as the battlefield against the Others and wants it firmly under his control and ready for when the time comes.’_ Benjen was thinking as he watched to his brother Ned thoughtfully and nodding to something Benjen didn't know.

“Now that you comment on the _Moat._ I haven't seen it yet, but Howland in command of the works until I go there, wrote me that less than a moon ago the first batch of _Wildfire_ arrived _._ Where the hell did they get it from? Aren't only _Kings Landing_ alchemists supposed to do it _?_ Are they planning to use it as a weapon of war?" Ned asked with some curiosity to the first and with some concern and terror in the last.

“As you well know, there are things that are only the domain of the _old blood._ To be honest, I don't even know where they got the formula for making the substance, but I have my suspicions that old Aemon has something to do with it. With regard to the latter, except in the case of the _Great War_ , the only purpose of the _Wildfire_ is for construction." Benjen replied to his brother, relaying direct words from his nephew and Rhaegar.

“You know that when I carry out the entirety of Jon's plan in the _Moat_ , I will be responsible for finishing something that the _Children of the Forest began_ more than eight thousand years ago. From what Howland told me, by the time I get to _Moat Caitlin_ , everything will be ready to definitively separate the _North_ from the rest of the continent…” Ned told him with a heavy voice and full of disbelief at what he should do.

Taking advantage of the occasion, Benjen decided that it was time to give his nephew his final accolade

“That is why I was telling you before that I am convinced that Aegon is the only one who can lead us to victory. Look what he's done in nearly eight moons that have passed since the _ritual_. Imagine how everything will be when _Winter really comes.”_ Benjen told him soberly, but not without admiration and respect for Jon.

“That is coming, Benjen. _Winter is Coming_ and we will be prepared to face it with _Fire and Blood."_

* * *

[[1]](https://i7an2ovvjy7vli2obyoolcgode--archiveofourown-org.translate.goog/works/18949606/chapters/50251658?view_adult=true#_ftnref1) From Quenya and High Valyrian. _Ice tower_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the Tyrion chapter took place temporarily at the Canon moment that Arryn was poisoned, the Mance chapter was the moment Ned received Arryn's death letter.  
> This interlude would take place at the canon moment that Robert arrives at Winterfell. I mean, Benjen is in Winterfell at the same time as in canon. What I have moved backwards several months is the harvest festival (Supposedly late / early 298/299, but which will now coincide with the time that would have been the tourney of the Hand.)  
> Also remember that both in the canon and here, Dany and Viserys' timeline is 6 months behind. In canon Dany I II and III are in 297 (wedding included)  
> In the Westerosi timeline, Bran is already 9 and Arya 11. Robb 15 for 16 and Sansa 13. Rhaegar 23 and Lyanna 18 and Aegon has 4 months left to have a happy name day and be of legal age for all intents and purposes. Ned will arrive in Essos past that date, where his POV will adopt the timeline of the Essosi plot and the first Council of Valyria (The second Arc)
> 
> That is why these two last interludes, that I wanted and needed in the story to know what is happening in the north (because Tyrion is in the south and till Eddard III-Harvest Festival 'Hello Northerners, we are loyal to the Targaryens and here I present you a puppet of the Others. P.S; The conqueror is my nephew, the conqueror's dragons are back and Roose Bolton is bad bad, very bad '- we will not know more about the north.)


	19. Rhaenys II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragon's Sister and family introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on;  
> i  
> Nys = Rhaenys Targaryen Martell, Daughter of Rhaegar and Elia  
> Rhae = Rhaenys Targaryen, Daughter of Aerion Targaryen and Valaena Velaryon (Sister of Daemon Velaryon, future First Master of Ships and uncle of the Conqueror who commands the troops in the battles against the Hoare at the King's wood and in the advance column towards Harrenhal in the 1st Battle of the God's Eye)

**Indeterminate **

* * *

After feeling as if she were crossing an infinite abyss, Rhaenys, when she opened her eyes again, found herself facing a dazzling sun and in a place that she was unable to identify but that felt strangely familiar.

She was at the access to a kind of huge inner courtyard. The square that formed it was surrounded by black and high walls, with a large gallery arch on one of its sides, which seemed to emulate a lying dragon. Said stone black-like-night _dragon_ rested on huge columns adorned with dragons, griffons and strange creatures that Rhaenys was not able to recognize.

In the center of the courtyard was a water well, while on the other side, in front of a huge and threatening curtain wall, four practice targets were arranged in parallel line.

Facing one of these _stuffed adversaries,_ stood a boy of about six or seven days of the name, frantically striking _the straw and sawdust enemy_ with a short wooden sword. The boy’s silver hair fell below the shoulders, barely distinguishable from the pale complexion of his back. For only clothing, the boy’s wore black baggy pants adjusted to the waist by a cord of the same color and wore small riding boots that reached almost to his knees.

Said kid would barely exceed five feet tall. Yet from where she gazed at him and Rhaenys’s perspective, the kid looked like a giant. He was slim in build, but showed promise to broaden his back and shoulders in the future.

Rhaenys had never seen him, nor did she recognize the boy. But something inside her told her that this boy and she would be united for life. Something was drawing her to him, as if it were natural to be in the kid’s presence.

Before Rhaenys could stop to think about the situation she was in, and that she couldn't understand ‘ _Me? My body of its own free will?'_ began to walk in the direction of the mysterious boy, whose bodily attitude seemed to convey anger with the world and a lot of tension.

Although Rhaenys had not yet seen the kid’s face, the situation and the person were extremely familiar to her.

"[ _Egg, no matter how much you hit a straw dummy, that way you won't be able to beat Senya.]"_ said suddenly ‘ _Me?’_ to the boy in _High Valyrian_ , with ‘ _My voice_ _?’_ childish, somewhat strident, quite loud and with a mocking touch. The questioned person turned round on himself to fix his gaze on Rhaenys.

The boy had eyes as black as night, crossed by raging purple streaks, making them look like pools of black liquid that drank in the sunlight to make them glow. It was as if they absorbed the light, then returned it to the outside reflecting fury. The kid’s face with fine features, had a fine pointed nose and high pronounced cheekbones, accompanied by a mouth with full lips that were at that moment totally pursed.

"[ _Tell me! Why won't it help me defeat her at once!? I'm sick of her put-downs. Some of the men say that she would be a better head of the family than me ... not only because she’s the first-born, but because of the fact that I am unable to defeat her..]._ " The kid complained vehemently, in a voice that reminded Rhaenys a lot of her father voice but more childish, vibrant and sharp, although his tone was fading towards the end of the complaint

“[ _Ahhh but that's your problem Egg. You intend to defeat Senya by crushing a straw dummy that does not hit you back. Every time you fight with her it's always the same_.]" Rhaenys said mockingly, as if she had all the answers to the dilemma that the stranger kid posed, while she put the index of the right hand under her eye and stuck out her tongue.

 _‘Am I the one doing all this? What's happening to me? Where am I? Why can't I control what I say or what I do?’_ Rhaenys thought desperately, increasingly anguished by the incomprehensible situation.

However ‘ _My body and mind?’_ seemed to know exactly what was going on, where she was and who the boy was.

 _“[It is not a question of strength, because you already have much more than her. Nor is for lacking of quickness, although you should accept that you will never be as fast as her. No. Your problem is that our sister lets you get angry with her continuous evasions, which makes you lose your composure and try to crush her ... How has that strategy gone for now brother?_ ]" Rhaenys said. Totally sure of what she was saying to the boy who apparently was called _Egg_ and was her _Brother?_

 _'What a strange name'_ Rhaenys thought, as she tried to understand something of the situation that she was ' _Dreaming? Living?'_ she wondered, without getting any answers, or being able to control anything that happened in the body and mind in which she seemed to find herself. Rhaenys had the feeling of wearing clothes worn by someone else, but which were definitely hers.

“[ _You may be right on that Rhae. Sometimes I let my temper take over me and bring out the worst in me. The Dragon's blood is strong in me, as I see it…]_ ” the boy began to say in an exculpatory and somewhat pompously tone.

"[ _Without a doubt Egg,]"_ she said with a certain mockery, interrupting him _"[You are quite a Dragon, when you have yet not bonded with any real dragon.]"_

 _'Bonded with a Dragon? There are Dragons? Why did father and mother hide from me that there are dragons?'_ Rhaenys was trying to understand internally the words that seemed to have been spoken by her.

 _“[I have already explained to you a thousand times, that if I do bond with a dragon, I want to do it on Gaemon's dragon. If I am the last of Valyria, I must be bonded to the last dragon born in Valyria. It is a matter of pure logic Rhae.]_ ” the boy replied presumptuously, now more relaxed in his posture, with a softer look and mischievous smile.

 _'Rhae? They call me Rhae…'_ thought Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, suddenly. Current heir to _the Iron Throne,_ who must have been dreaming or dead. For Rhaenys’s last and terrifying memory was being under her father's bed, while the city burned on all four sides and bad men came for her.

The same childish voice that had addressed the boy was now directed inwardly toward her, making her feel as if she were in a container already occupied by someone else.

 _'That must be because you and I are two people and one at a time, or at least that's the feeling it gives me. And the one in front of us is my brother: Aegon Targaryen, the last of Valyria and heir to Dragonstone.'_ the other _person in Rhaenys_ said with affection and _‘love?’_ The one with whom was she ‘ _sharing body and soul with?’_

Not even being questioned by the _Old Gods,_ the _New Gods_ , or the _Mother Rhoyne herself,_ Rhaenys would know what was happening at that moment, or where she was. Far from it. She was even incapable of conceiving the mysterious and temperamental child, with her brother.

 _'I never had a brother'_ she thought bitterly and sadly to herself, remembering that whatever it was she was experiencing, she must been lying dead in her father's rooms at the _Red Keep_. _'The Arryn, Baratheon, Lannister, Tully and Stark did everything in their power to make that happen.'_

Upon having said thought, the body that she was now inhabiting suffered a chill that Rhaenys could feel, at the same time that she felt within herself a feeling of infinite sorrow.

_'Calm down Nys. Whoever it is who have hurt you, we will take revenge. You will see. My brother seems haughty and over-tempered, but deep down he's a love and an honorable person. And when you meet Senya, even if she’s a little scary, I assure you that she is the most faithful person to our family that exists.'_

It seemed that _she herself_ was right, as Aegon seemed to notice the sudden change in her mood, changing the attitude in him towards Rhaenys for one of tenderness, some concern and a helpless puppy look.

 _"[Hāedar, are you okay? You are even paler than usual. Did I say something that has upset you? I wasn't mad at you and I really wasn't mad at Senya either. I was frustrated by my inability to defeat her, not by her ability or your advice…]"_ said in defeated tone Aegon.

It seemed that Rhaenys did not feel like explaining to her brother the conversation that the two of them had just had inside Rhaenys’s soul, so she quickly returned to show an exuberant disposition. Disposition very similar to her own and changed the subject, while grabbing arm in arm with Aegon.

"[ _Let's go to the Dragonmont to see how Axes is growing_.]" after said the which, _Rhae_ tried to start a race towards the destination she had marked. It was impossible for her to move, for her _brother_ was pinned down, staring at her.

_“[Rhae, I love you more than my life, I never want to see you feel bad and I will always do what is in my power to ensure your happiness and safety. I will always do what you ask, but in return I ask you to trust me and tell me what happens to you, if something ever happens to you.]"_

After that, the _boy_ detached himself from Rhaenys’s arm, to go to the corner of the courtyard where purple orchids grew, which with the morning dew looked like amethysts. When the boy was in front of the flowers, he grabbed a bud in between the hands, smelled it, and proceeded to pull it off the stem.

With the flower bud secured, the shirtless boy, with the cascade of silver hair blowing in the wind, retraced his steps to face Rhaenys again. Possibly a head and a half taller than her, so she had to look up to see Aegon’s face.

Aegon's eyes were fixed on Rhaenys’s own, piercing her soul, while it seemed that his colors were turning up. The left foot did not stop still, as he assumed an awkward position and hunched shoulders.

 _"[Whenever I see purple orchids I will remember your eyes. Let me give you this to remind you of that.]"_ Aegon said in a way that seemed like an oath, in a voice that was certainly honeyed, although not exempt from the steel that seemed inherent in it.

Once those words were said, the boy seemed to lose all insecurity and discomfort that had possessed Aegon, to outline a sweet bright smile as relaxed his body.

In that moment, it felt like there was something inside Rhaenys and inside the person her soul was in, that seemed to actually make them two and one at the same time. That something, it was a sensation that she with her almost four days of the name did not understand, but it was like a strange sensation in the stomach. As butterflies flying in her insides. Was weird, but not bad. A sensation of attraction and dependence towards the boy, which Rhaenys was not able to understand. A sense of security and joy that comforted her soul and was making Rhaenys forget how she had gotten to where she was in first place.

“[ _I love you too Egg. I promise that I will always be by your side, helping you in whatever way I can. And there is one thing I know for sure I can help you do: your dream of being one with Balerion. My Axes is her friend! So now we are also going to be with the dragon of Gaemon. Come on! Follow me.]”_ said singsongly _'herself?'_ with all the tenderness Rhaenys could muster, sealing in turn the oath that ‘ _her brother?_ ’ had done.

After that, Rhaenys started a race towards the huge double gate that was half open and from which a path drilled into the side of a black mountain seemed to start.

When the body she was in reached the exit of the courtyard, Rhaenys was able to process everything she had seen, heard and _'felt?'_ reaching a conclusion. _'Balerion? Aegon? ARE YOU THE DRAGON'S SISTER!!!!?'_ she knew perfectly well who _Balerion_ and _Aegon_ were _._ She had seen the skull of the _Black Dread_ hundreds of times and had named her cat that. She had been on the _Iron Throne_ forged by Aegon and _Balerion_. It was impossible.

 _'The Dragon’s sister? That's what I call him sometimes and how he call my sister and me. How do you know that?' Rhaenys Targaryen_ , _the Dragon's Sister_ , answered with intrigue. To be exact, she was the woman, at that time the girl, for whom Rhaenys was called the way she did.

 _'Without a doubt I am dead, living a dream in the afterlife' Nys_ thought with certainty. At the same time that she began to feel as if an infinite free fall began, as she watched the life of the _Dragon’s Sister_ pass before her _._

* * *

**12 BC Dragonstone, Blackwater Rush, Westeros.**

****

* * *

After having been flying in _Meraxes for_ a while _the dragon's sister_ had decided to return to _Dragonstone_ to carry out the promise that she had made the day _Nys_ had arrived in her body, eight year after.

Today was the day that the _Dragon_ would bond with the dragon with which it would be associated until the end of days. Today at last, Aegon Targaryen would take possession of his greatest inheritance. _Balerion, The Black Dread._

Having descended from _Meraxes,_ _Rhae_ headed for the path carved into the side of the volcanic mountain, which on _Nys_ first day in the body of _the Dragon’s Sister_ , had ascended. Shortly after starting to walk, Rhaenys recognized in the distance the person she was looking for.

This one was in his black leather riding breeches, his leather boots and nothing else. _'He may have been taking a bath after training.' Rhae_ addressed internally to her.

 _'It's possible. Although he may also want to make his first time with Balerion more dramatic. You know how he likes to show off sometimes ... and of course body has for it. Our lēkia is the best built man on the world.’_ answered _Nys_ to _her_ alter ego of the ' _Past? Future? Present?’_

With almost three and ten days of her name, physically Rhaenys had already blossomed. And both, _Rhae_ and _Nys,_ had also done it on a mental level, being victims of a deep infatuation with their brother, which was reciprocated by him. Something that aroused certain desires and curiosities that were not present in the past and that the secret kisses between them only helped to increase.

When they reached less than thirty paces away of _Egg_ , they could see that the _Dragon_ seemed thoughtful and with a totally marbled face. He looked like an authentic sculpture of great realism carved out of the white marble. Except for Aegon’s eyes and the long hair blowing in the wind, the only things that seemed to have life in her brother.

 _'It looks like Egg is practicing how to put on a neutral face and a blank look. In the end it only took him eight more days of his name to learn to control his character.' Rhae_ commented after observing the gloomy and somewhat moldy expression of their _lēkia._ It was the same face _Nys_ had seen for the last eight days of the name, although with a more neutral and less tense countenance.

Although as Rhaenys got closer, what really seemed like had changed about Aegon on his tenth and fifth day of the name was Rhaenys’s brother gaze. Aegon’s two deep pits of darkness, streaked with raging purple streaks, now seemed to glow, ejecting a supernatural light of their own. Light appearing to be silver.

 _'Of course if Aegon look at Visenya like that after losing to her, none of the men on this island are going to consider tickling Aegon again. And after he bonds with Balerion today, even less. It seems that you are right Rhae.' Nys_ answered internally to the _Dragon’s sister_. Meanwhile, her body, shared between the two, began to happily descend the path _drilled_ into the side of the _Dragonmont,_ going out to meet the _Dragon._

Suddenly, Aegon appeared to emerge from the stupor in which he seemed to be immersed and began to walk in Rhaenys’s direction. Observing her as if Aegon was seeing her for the first time. In Aegon’s eyes apart from love, there was reverence and they were totally captive in her.

 _'It seems we're not the only ones growing up.'_ she said jokingly to _Rhae_ , whom _Nys_ knew if she could have seen her from the outside, would have noticed her blush a little.

Seeing that Aegon was almost reaching them, _Rhae_ chose to try to ignore the comment _Nys_ had made her, to address the object of the comment, with Rhaenys typical exuberance and honeyed tone.

“[ _Egg_ !! _Today is the fifth and tenth day of your name. Your gift today is that you will bond with Balerion]!_ ” _Rhae_ said in singsong way with her lofty _High Valyrian,_ and velvety voice.

Saying those words to their brother, something seemed to change in _Egg,_ because _The Dragon_ suddenly tensed, looked around and for a moment it seemed that he was about to lose consciousness. Sweat broke out immediately on his forehead and that new silver glow so unbecoming in his eyes, but that felt right in them, seemed to fill the entire iris of _Egg’s_ eyes.

As soon as _the Dragon_ had lost the composure, it seemed to return to him. As in less than a blink, Aegon closed the distance between them, to grab Rhaenys tightly around the waist and stick her to his muscular body.

With his steely, but warm voice and with a certain hint of sarcasm in it, _Egg_ replied, without moving his gaze from _Rhaenys’s_ own " _Rhaenys, you know better than anyone know how long I've been waiting for this day."_

Aegon’s arm seemed to squeeze _Rhaenys_ even tighter towards him, causing her to feel his typical aroma that was a mixture between smoke, sulfur and salt, intoxicating both _Rhae_ and _Nys. 'The Smell of a dragon calls another dragon Nys.' Rhae_ shuddered as she said what _Nys_ was also feeling. 

_“[Besides, I'm not like you. I don't want to be flying all the time.]"_ the _Dragon_ finished with his mischievous half smile, so typical of when _Egg_ was provoking her.

 _'But this time it will be us who will provoke him Rhae.'_ _Nys_ told the owner of the body she was in. This one undoubtedly read her mind, because before _Egg_ could react, Rhaenys closed her arms around Aegon’s neck and began to kiss him with a passion that she had never done before.

It was a kiss that tasted glorious, that felt like the most correct thing in the world and damn those who thought that only _Senya_ could marry _Egg._ She would also be by his side until the end of time, even if she had to die a thousand times more to be with him and would fight against anyone who opposed the union between her and her brother.

* * *

**2 BC _A Dream of Winter to Come_  
**

* * *

Rhaenys suddenly woke up in a darkness that caused the hairs on her body to stand on end. A cold wind that seemed to blow from the north, made the trees seem to whisper like living beings. She felt totally out of place and like something was looking at her. Something cold and unforgiving, that didn't love Rhaenys in the least.

 _"Where I am?"_ _Nys’s_ voice rang out, too loud for the whisper that had escaped her lips, in the twilight forest looming between dark shadows. Her breath seemed to turn to frost as she breathed. The temperature of the gloomy forest seemed to drop further.

 _Nys_ began to feel cold like none she had never experienced in her life, entering her body, depriving her of practically all her body warmth. Protected only by her baggy silk and tulle nightgown to sleep on, _Nys_ was so cold that she felt as if her body was on fire.

If something was clear to her, it was that _Nys_ was no longer in her _Dragonstone_ bed along the _Dragon_. _Nys_ also had the impression that she had recovered _her_ _body_ and that _Rhae was_ no longer sharing this one with her. For the first time in almost eight and ten days of her name, _Nys_ felt completely alone. And that scared her.

 _'And not only am I alone, but I don't even know where I am or how I got here.' Nys_ thought quickly, trying to make sense of the sinister situation she was in now.

After whatever happened the night of the _Sack_ , _Nys_ was half able to understand how she had come to her new life and adjust to it. ' _But what is happening here, I cannot attribute it to Valyrian sorcery, much less to Senya. I do not think that in Senya’s nightmares makes this cold.' Nys_ tried to understand.

 _"[Although it may be that it’s cold between her sheets.]"_ resounded out of nowhere a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and none at the same time. Answering a question that _Nys_ had not even expressed. It was a feminine voice, soft and velvety. But with a cold tone that froze _Nys_ ‘ _heart_?.’ The one she hadn't felt like her own in a lifetime.

_'Now I'm really scared. Where is Egg? Why do you say that about Senya? Isn't she happy being the head of the family in practice?'_

“[ _Tsk, Tsk, Tsk…So many millennia have passed that my offspring cannot see what is happening before them? Girl, you are not only breaking the Pact, you are causing our return and the breaking of the Dragon's blood.]”_ Said the unearthly voice, which Nys was now realizing, spoke in a _High Valyrian_ very similar to the primitive dialect, only used by elites.

 _"[Get out of there_ _!]_ " Rhaenys yelled in no particular direction. _Nys’s_ voice trembling and shrill, as she ran in the opposite direction from where the wind was coming. In the distance in that direction, a gigantic _White Wall_ seemed to be outlined in the sky that seemed to be exclaiming _Safe Place._

In that direction _Nys_ quickened the pace even more if possible, through the increasingly twilight forest, amid what was beginning to be a light snowfall. _Nys_ had to dodge rocks, roots and sinkholes hidden just below the bark of these, where she almost fell a couple of times. Increasingly exhausted, terrified by the situation and gripped by the cold, _Nys_ felt that could barely breathe and that the air that she managed to get inside her lungs, was burning her with how cold it was.

Rhaenys decided to stop and look in all directions, feeling that she really had not practically advanced from the place where had awakened. Resolving to face the terrifying presence that _Nys_ had felt since the first moment in that strange place and stepping up her posture, she went back to the dark, increasingly snowy and gloomy, forest.

Speaking with her most authoritative and cutting voice. "[ _Who are you? What relationship do you have with me and why do you accuse me of things that I don't even know what you mean by them_?]" _Nys_ demanded.

 _Nys’s_ voice seemed to be drowned in a sea of ice crunches. The echoes of which formed a cacophony similar to that of cruel and macabre laughter. A laugh that contained evil and coldness in enormous quantities. A laugh that augured pain and tears, hooting in the moan of the frozen wind that ravaged _Nys_.

 _"[Leave now that the powers under the Wall have not yet been awakened. Leave now that there has not yet been a fight between brothers. Disappear before there is a Dance and the_ _lineage of Old_ _divides. Get out of here before the blood of the rubies desecrates the waters and the Dragon has to hide in the Shadows. Your place is not this. Leave now!]"_ the cold voice rang out again from everywhere and nowhere. Its tone was now totally threatening, accusatory and reproachful, charged with fury and anger.

 _'It's as if the bearer of that voice hated me with all its soul.'_ Rhaenys tried to keep running towards the _White Wall_ , but couldn't make it anymore.

 _Nys_ was exhausted and was beginning to not feel her bare feet covered in snow. The snowfall was now a veritable curtain of snow that closed the view more than two feet in front of her. She was scared, freezing and did not know how to get out of where she was or how to get to the _Wall_ that she constantly saw in the distance, but without changing her closeness to it.

' _If Egg were here, he would save me' Nys_ thought.

Suddenly the twilight deepened. The sky until that moment completely covered with clouds, was suddenly partially uncovered. Revealing a circle through the dense cloud cover, the which reflected a sky that seemed to be dyed in an intense purple color, the color of an old bruise. Then it faded to black and stars began to appear in the sky. Before _Nys_ could realize it, a gigantic star of reddish light materialized out of nowhere high in the sky. Throwing a bloody light that seemed to cast the shadow of a gigantic black reddish dragon cutting through swirling snow.

When _Nys_ lowered again her gaze to the front, the vision she encountered filled her with dread, paralyzing her completely.

‘ _There is no longer any escape to any possible safety.’ Nys_ stated to herself, shuddering from the certainty in her thought.

The snowstorm now seemed to dance around an imaginary cone. Cone which was closed by two rings at its base. One was a reddish light ringed circle that hovered over her, of which she and the axis with the reddish light in the sky were the center. This ring was compressed by an outer ring composed of a formless infinite tide of decomposed beings, reanimated corpses of all kinds and skeletons, that once they must have been some kind of living being with some skins on them. They all had in common a spectral blue glow in their eyes. _'Or what were once eyes.'_ for some of these creatures did not even have and yet, from the empty sockets the bluish glow was emitted.

Thirteen tall, emaciated figures with milk-pale flesh formed the second inner ring closest to her, closing ever closer to her surroundings. The armor of these beings with inscrutable features seemed to change color as they moved slowly; in one place it was as white as freshly fallen snow. In another, black as the shadow of the dragon that was beginning to descend on _Nys_ position. Everywhere mottled by the deep blood red that the strange light in the sky cast. The eyes of the pale wraiths were blue as the deepest blue and bluer than any human eye. They were a blue that seemed to burn like ice when they landed on _Nys_.

One by one, these terrifying beings drew their swords, which seemed to ooze blood at the reflection of the red star. They looked like a translucent material, like a shard of glass so thin it seemed to almost disappear when viewed on its edge. There, with a dim glow, a ghostly reddish light played around the edges and somehow made them look like living objects.

The dark reddish shadow of the dragon settled between her and the inhuman beings whom were advancing in unison at a slow pace. But closing in around _Nys_ and the enormous misty projection of the dragon that had appeared apparently to protect her.

 _'Of course Axes is not. Not even Balerion is that monstrously big! This dragon is the shadow made fire.'_ Thought that _Nys_ soon saw confirmed, when a dark jet reddish flame suddenly flowed like a waterfall of lava through the gigantic jaws of the dragon.

The flame seemed to merge with the snowstorm outside the cone, forming a gigantic whirlpool of snow and fire, resembling a terrible battle between the two elements. The clash of flame and ice produced an almost deafening and insane roar.

_'It is like the noise of a thousand saws cutting down trees at the same time. It's going to drive me crazy.'_

When everything in the in crescendo of the titanic struggle between elements aimed to reach its climactic point and with the arrival of this, take with it the little sanity that was left in _Nys's_ head, the most absolute silence that she had ever witnessed was made.

The silence was barely disturbed by the faint sound of the ethereal long strides of one of the pale beings. With an infinite silver mane waving at it back, _the specter_ moved ahead of the rest, placing itself less than twenty paces from the dragon and thirty from _Nys_.

Behind _Nys_ , to the right, to the left and all around her, the remaining twelve spectral observers stood patient, without definable faces, silent. The changing patterns of their delicate armor made them look like dancing ethereal tears of blood, almost translucent at times. They seemed exceptional observers of an expected moment, not making any movement to interfere between the being that was approaching the dragon and in _Nys’s_ direction.

Fear, incomprehension and helplessness in the face of the situation had completely paralyzed _Nys_ , causing her to barely perceive the tremendous heat given off by the opaque reddish shadow of the dragon. _Nys’s_ body was totally numb from the cold had suffered and that seemed to have stolen the very breath from her chest and frozen her insides.

The leading figure fixed its cold blue eyes on _Nys_ , causing her to tremble like a blade of grass tossed through the air. Its lips began to move making a sound that could only be compared to the crunching of ice on a winter lake.

 _“[You have brought the Darkness. It will return and be defeated, but an Empire where it will always be dawning, will dominate everyone.] ”_ came out of the being the voice that _Nys_ had heard before, but as on previous occasions, it seemed to come from all directions.

 _“[The Song has been sung. The Music has ended so it can have a new begin. The Equilibrium has been broken and there will only be light.]”_ the voice uttered ominously, at the same time that the being emitted what could be described as a diabolical laugh, but that resembled the collision of large blocks of ice.

At that moment, the twelve spectral observers, at the same moment launched their swords, which at some point had mutated into long spears. Their target was the gigantic shadowed dragon in front of _Nys_. When the magical weapons seemed to make contact with it, the shadow dragon disappeared without a trace. The sky became completely overcast, the red star and its brightness disappearing. The snowfall fell heavily again as the cold seemed to shoot up. _Nys_ was unable to feel any of her limbs anymore and her teeth wouldn't stop rattling between them, from the shivering she had.

The infinite silver-haired being that had come moving forward again in _Nys’s_ direction. Wielding its translucent sword in its right hand, it raised its left arm skyward, spreading its palm and bony fingers in a way that seemed to caress the snowflakes that flooded everything.

 _“[The Gods will rule and humans will bow down before them for life. The age of Blood until the end of time will last and you and yours will see it. You will know neither death nor full life, and you will have to carry your burden forever.]"_ said the voice that belonged to everywhere and nowhere, at the same time that the being violently lowered its extended left arm against the ground, causing what resembled a gigantic ice blast.

After that, _Nys_ drowned in infinite darkness and cold, feeling herself die again.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

 _'Where I am? I'm alive?'_ _Nys_ wondered, making herself a real skein of tears, as she huddled on a damp stone floor.

 _'BY THE FLAMES OF VALYRIA WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT NYS!?_ Exclaimed asking her, the inner voice of _Nys’s_ habitual companion of body, absent during her recently terrifying experience.

 _'Wet stone floor?'_ Nys wondered to herself. As she watched around her, while uncontrollably sobbing, _Nys_ realized why she was over wet stone floor. _‘I’m alive and in Dragonstone, but it can't be. It just can’t be,'_

When _Nys_ focused her gaze, she saw _the Dragon_ and _Senya_ in front of her _,_ staring at _Rhae_ with a shocked faces.

At that time, the only thing that both, _Rhae_ and _Nys_ were able to articulate was what they repeated to their family.

"Ice creatures, with sky blue eyes, staring at me as a snowstorm engulfed me ...”

* * *

**10 AC. Over Hellholt Castle, Dorne, Westeros.**

****

* * *

Under the blazing Dornish sun, as she soared through the skies on the back of _Meraxes_ , _Nys_ could not help but remember her husband and son.

Due to a tragic and unexpected defeat, _Rhae_ decided to leave her husband in command of the construction of _Aegon's Fort_ and the rest of the works of _King's Landing,_ as well as the care of the _son of the Dragon._ The quiet little boy, who would be in charge of continuing the mission they had started.

A prince who promised to end the _return of darkness_ should it appear during his lifetime. Aenys Targaryen, who _Nys_ loved more than her own life, or whatever it was that she had been experiencing for thirty days of her name.

Possibly one of the happiest moments of both herself and _Rhae_ and perhaps, the most unreal experience _lived_ by _Nys_ during the thirty days of her name that she had cohabited within _the Dragon’s Sister._ The labor and birth of Aenys. This experience was the one that convinced both of them that they were really the same person, since they both felt the same pain in those moments.

Not even when cutting the connection between them, a distressing experience for both and to which they resorted only in very intimate or special situations _'Generally due to the difference of opinion between the two',_ _Nys_ could be abstracted from what was happening to her other self, _Nys_ reflected.

 _'I told you from the first time. We are two and one at the same time. We are the same soul, but from different lives. Remember what Senya told us about the ritual of the Doom. Surely something like this happened and instead of extinguishing you, you returned to your original place. To me. That I am you.' Rhae_ contributed internally, trying to explain as a _maester_ their situation.

Both had always kept the secret and not even Aegon knew that his sister-wife, were really two people in one. But from time to time, taking advantage of the turn towards the arcane, the blood magic and the sorcery of _Valyria_ on part of their _Mandia_ , they asked indirect questions in reference to the situation they were living.

 _'The best thing was when Melony answered us with her daydreams that as blood of the Forty we were descendants of their God and therefore immortal like this one. Ha! When mother died, I did not see Valaena return from her pyre.' Rhae_ reminded _Nys_ of the conversation with the former slave, now _Priestess of R'hllor._

 _'For her sake, I hope that in Asshai the Shadowbinders will take away her nonsense about Azor Ahai and Melony’s obsession with fire. What would be lacking is for her is to spread Senya's theory that king's blood has special powers. In that case I could imagine Aegon being harassed by R'hllor Zealots and leeches.’_ _Nys_ replied. She, unlike _Rhae_ , _Senya_ or even _Egg,_ could never tolerate the former slave of the _Freehold._

 _'Exactly my point. You're right. The only ones who can extract something from Aegon are us.' Rhae_ replied seductively.

Her alter ego from the past had always blamed _Nys's_ revulsion towards the priestess as a matter of jealousy. And if there was one thing that the _Dragon’s Sister_ was not, it was being a jealous person. _Rhae_ knew that her brother would take his own life rather than cheat on her. And both of them knew it too and professed the same love for Aegon.

But _Nys_ was never able to explain exactly the reason for her rejection of the priestess. There was something about the way Melony's looked at her and at Aegon, that made Nys nervous. It seemed as if Melony knew something about the two of them that not even they themselves were capable of knowing.

 _'You must admit that at least about the Great Other and the return of the Darkness, she knows a lot. Although her description hardly resembles to what you dreamed. '_ _Rhae_ replied, exonerating Melony in a certain way _._

 _'Look, there in the distance we can already see the castle.' Nys_ said to the owner of her soul, for distract _Rhae_ from the subject she was entering.

Even though they had accomplished the _Conquest_ in the name of her dream, save for the night it _happened_ , _Nys_ tried to suppress and block any memory of the terror she _'dreamed? Experienced? Imagined? Rave?' Nys_ could never know for sure and the truth was, she didn't want to know.

 _Rhae_ respected her decision, as did her sister and brother, who never asked her directly about the _dream again._ Much less did they make public their reasons of why his brother left his _Fate_ and _Destiny_ in the _Lands of the Eternal Summer,_ to fixate his gaze on _Westeros._ They simply took advantage of the political and social instability of the kingdoms, having the best existing military command between her uncle, her brother and Orys. And they had something that nobody else had and where she was riding now; _dragons. Fire made flesh._

Although except for her during the Battle of the _Wendwater_ and _in The Last Storm,_ as well as her brother at _Harrenhall_ , they never directed the fire of the mythical creatures directly against enemies. Their deterrent power after the favor the lords did them in the _Field of Fire_ , allowed them to carry out a relatively bloodless and _simple conquest_.

 _Dorne's_ submission on the other hand, was turning out to be another matter. And that was because of the proud descendants from Nymeria and Garin, whom battle by unfair means and don’t bend, bow or broke. Not like the Stony Dornishmen, descendents of Andals and first men who had already recognized the sovereignty Targaryen. So they were forced to use dragons as a tactical weapon against the salty dornishmen. And according to the _Dragon_ , these battles were being the ones that most reminded _Nys’s_ brother of the wars in _Essos,_ due to the death toll between both sides.

And now it was _Rhaenys_ turn to intervene in Dorne. Again.

Practically from the first moment and paradoxical as it was to _Nys_ , _Rhae_ had thrown herself on the mission to subdue Dorne. And at the moment it was not going well. They had reached temporary truces, but the attack on his brother at _King's Landing_ shattered any cordial entente. Or at least maintain a neutrality with respect to them.

 _Rhaenys’s_ mission in this campaign was simple and was to last less than two weeks. The day of _Aegon's_ name would be lost to her, but both hoped that they would finally bring Dorne down at last.

 _‘How else do you explain that you are the descendant of a union between Targaryen and Martell? It is clear that sooner or later we will beat them and I doubt that someone other than me can do it. Senya and Aegon's diplomacy is nefarious, sometimes not knowing when to be cordial and even false.' Rhae_ reaffirmed to herself.

Although most of the _sandy_ and _salty_ Dornish _nobility_ seemed to have been swallowed up by the sands and coastal waters of the southern kingdom, House Uller continued to dare to challenge their brother's reign openly. According to _Senya_ , the assassins who attacked _Egg_ and _Rhae’s_ sister were trained and paid by this house, to ingratiate themselves with house Martell. In their lands, moreover, the disastrous defeat of the host under Harlan Tyrell had taken place. Their _crimes_ against the blood of _Valyria_ could not go unpunished _._

 _'The Rhoynar still haven't learned that they can't mess with dragons, Nys. It seems like last year's Aegon and Senya campaign didn't do them any good. And it seems that they have forgotten very quickly the defeat of The Sorrows and Garin The Great.’ Rhae_ told _Nys_ with her typical _arrogance_ every time she brought up the history of the _Forty._

If there was one person who was the epitome of the _Freehold_ of old _, it_ was _Rhae._ Sometimes haughty and arrogant. In others close and accessible. The most beautiful woman on the planet and the wife of the most powerful man on the it. _Dragonrider_ in her own right since she had four days off the name. Skin that looked like porcelain and mane that seemed to be the reflection of the full moon on a dark night. And above all, a tremendous pride in whom she was and from whom she descended, just as Rhae’s possessed an unbridled passion for certain things.

 _The Dragon's sister_ was a person who did not know in-between points and was sometimes an extremist. Something they both shared, although _Nys_ managed to temper many of _Rhae's_ worst impulses _. 'Although not all them and you know it. Because you also like to give in to them sometimes.'_ the owner of the body reminded _Nys_.

 _Nys_ traditionally preferred to refrain from getting into any discussion regarding the _Rhoynar_ , or towards some of _Rhae's_ unbridled passions, which although shared, she tried to curb.

But the comment _Rhae_ had just made filled _Nys_ patience on the first topic. If they shared something, it was also pride. And _Nys_ was extremely proud of her heritage from the _Fourteen Flames_ and _Mother Rhoyne_.

 _'Rhae, the Ullers are descendants of Andals not form Nymeria or Garin. They wouldn't know how to do water magic even if their lives depended on it.’_ _Nys_ said with more irritation than she first intended, causing _Rhae_ to give a little jolt with the body.

 _Meraxes_ seemed to notice her _Dragonrider's_ discomfort as the neck and head rocked back, causing tension in the saddle chains.

 _"[Easy girl. We were having a little internal debate and as you know, I can be a little rude to myself sometimes. In a while we will make a show of force and return to Aenys and Balerion, is that okay?]" Rhae_ addressed the silver and lilac dragon, apologizing to _Nys_ in the only way _the Dragon's sister knew how._ Without saying it explicitly, but dropping it.

 _'Don't worry,_ _Although we always have our differences regarding certain issues, you know that I am nobody without you_ , Rhae _. Now we're going to finish this and go home.'_ _Nys_ responded internally to the apology poorly offered, but which she knew came from the heart of _herself_.

The reply of their dragon, in the form of a deep roar, followed by several strident screams that transmitted happiness, announced the binomial formed by _Rhaenys_ and _Meraxes._ From the height and in the decreasing distance, she could see the many scorpions located on the castle towers, and even protruding outside the walls, preparing to _welcome her._

These contraptions, imported from the _Rhoynar_ fights against the _Freehold,_ were more of a nuisance to her than to _Meraxes._ The serpentine dragon skin was tougher than the _Dragon's_ armor, especially on its belly and underside. There the skin and scales seemed to be impossible to penetrate. If hit there, the projectile would bounce like arrows on _Nys_ brother's armor. The key to being successful in the attack was to always attack from the height and in perpendicular to the targets, making it impossible for them to aim at her.

The sensations produced by acquiring an almost horizontal position with respect to the vertical, was one of absolute freedom and adrenaline. It seemed that the two of them and the huge dragon were the same being.

Three souls thinking and acting as one. _'In one word; Magical'._

It was time to unleash the radiant flame of _Meraxes_ on Hellholt, the grim castle in the middle of nowhere in the Dornish desert.

 _"Draca ..." the Dragon's sister_ tried to utter _,_ but was interrupted by an explosion of blinding white light.

Also blinding _Nys_ , the sudden, unfamiliar burst of light seemed to have silenced all her senses, including the connection with _Rhae._ All of sudden, _Nys_ felt nothing, saw nothing and heard nothing. There was only white light engulfing everything and everywhere. The desert, the castle and _Meraxes_ had disappeared. At that moment _Nys_ doubted even her own existence.

But a whisper, uttered by a familiar voice in high Valyrian, began to echo from all directions. Even from within _Nys_ herself, even though at that moment she was just a drifting soul.

_“[When the hammer falls on the Dragon, a new King will live in the shadows, die and rise. He will put out the flames of Valyria, restore the Glory of the Old Freehold and no one will oppose him, for he will bring the Dawn.]"_

The blinding whitish light and the absence of any sensation suddenly gave way to a daunting scene, which if _Nys_ had been alive would have made her lose her mind.

Nys was back on _Meraxes_ , _plummeting_ down over the _seven times_ accursed dornish castle. But she was engulfed in a whirlwind of flames that were consuming her and her dragon. Flames that appeared to be _Balerion's_ own _._

 _Nys_ began to feel an unspeakable pain. Her skin seemed to be melting on her body at the same time that _Nys’s_ insides seemed to be being consumed by the very flames of _the Fourteen Flames of Valyria._

 _"PLEASE! STOP THIS TORTURE! BY ALL THE GODS, MERCY! IF IT IS NOT FOR ME, DO IT FOR MY SON; DON'T HAVE HIM TO KNOW WHAT IT IS TO GROW UP WITHOUT A MOTHER!"_ Rhaenys Targaryen implored, yelling at the dark firestorm that danced around her and her dragon. The which one seemed to be decomposing, melting into a self-consuming fiery ball.

Someone or something seemed to hear her plea, as she began to feel how all pain and sensation left her, giving place to a peace like she had never felt.

 _'This is my end.'_ Rhaenys Targaryen clairvoyantly thought.

There was no longer _Rhae or Nys, there_ were and _had been_ two and one. They would die as one and two at the same time, without knowing where one began and where the other ended. They were both herself.

As that happened, the voice resounded again, promising a comeback and a return in a firm and ominous tone that seemed to come from within the whirlwind itself. It was like a continuous pulse, a heartbeat that wouldn't stop ringing.

_“[When the Red Star bleed and Darkness reunite, The Prince who was Promised, the son of Ice, the son of Fire, the Dragon Reborn, The King in the Shadows, will be reborn amongst ice and fire, amongst smoke and salt, awakening the Dragons from the Stone to bring the Dawn.]”_

* * *

**282 AC. Blackwater Rush, Westeros.**

****

* * *

_"_ Rhaenys, you are safe. I will not allow anyone to harm you. I am here to protect you. _"_ The voice of Ser Jaime Lannister, someone whom she practically saw as her older brother, brought her out of the trance of whitish light and nothing where _Nys_ was in.

She was no longer in the hell of black fire that she had ‘ _dreamed of?’_ Nor was Rhaenys under her father's bed, trying to hide from the damned who was trying to hurt her. Rather, Rhaenys was being carried by her _Kings guard_ towards a rock near the water where they were.

 _'It was all a nightmare, nothing was real. The shock and fear made me pass this right?’_ _Nys_ thought, realizing that her inner voice was nothing like the voice she had when she was a child.

However, _Rhaenys_ was again in the body of a girl of almost four days of the name. ' _The fear and the hit against the wall must have made me delirious.' Nys_ thought, thinking that maybe she was cursed like her grandfather Aerys.

A voice that _Nys_ believed impossible to ever hear again and that according to everything she had before her, never existed, answered her thoughts. _'I don't think so, because I'm here and I've lived the same thigns as you, to return to the body of a girl. Again. But if you want to keep the illusion, I will try to disturb as little as possible, Nys.'_ Rhaenys Targaryen told herself.

Although Nys could not see it, she knew that from the outside she must be seen as a totally absent person.

 _'How can I explain this, if not through madness!? It can't be that I was the dragon's sister. There has to be another explanation. Either I have gone mad like my grandfather, or I have been delirious from the pain of the blow to the back.’ Nys_ wanted to convince herself.

But _Rhae_ didn't seem to want to accept out what _Nys_ had just thought.

 _'Is it so complex to think that we have died twice? How do you explain the dream you had?_ _Because I imagine that just like me, you will remember it. Or our feelings on our first time with Aegon? Or the memory of the birth of little Aenys?’ The Dragon’s Sister_ accused her directly _,_ bringing to light irrefutable evidence of what she said.

But _Nys_ didn't want to admit it. It couldn't be. That meant that she somehow have died more than two hundred and seventy years ago and was back among the living. And it meant that _Nys_ had also died in this life and had come back to life again. _'None of this is possible. You are my imagination!' Nys_ internally denied what seemed true.

 _'This smells of blood magic and Senya from leagues away. It must be related to the dream and the Others. Remember what we heard above the Hellholt. Remember the whispers and the pulse of the whirlwind of fire. Someday I will be able to prove what now I say. Meanwhile, consider me your partner in life, as you were in mine.’_ said reproachfully _'Herself? The Dragon’s sister?'_

 _'IT CAN'T BE! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT OF ME! YOU ARE NOT REAL! NOTHING YOU SAY HAPPENED! GET AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE!'_ _Nys_ screamed internally, trying to block out all thought.

But the only thing she managed was to enter in a kind of trance. Trance in which before _Nys’s_ eyes the infinite hosts of ice demons paraded over and over again, while their terrifying laughter echoed in her head and to then relive one and another time the macabre whirlwind of fire.

Rhaenys could not say how long had passed since she entered that terrifying stupor, but just as suddenly as _Nys_ entered it and without knowing how long later, or where she was at that moment, the trance disappeared when _Nys_ saw how Ser Jaime was hit by a man with an oar.

Ser Jaime's assailant was a thin man with brown eyes and an ordinary face, which seemed eroded by the elements of the sea. The beard and brown hair seemed to have seen better days and was dressed in a sailor's garb, gnawed and mended in various places.

For the first time in what _Nys_ had felt was a lifetime ago, Rhaenys Targaryen spoke again, feeling her throat slit as she did so. _"_ Please! I implore you, don't kill Ser Jaime. I have no one else in this life!"

* * *

**Thirteenth day of the seventh moon of 297AC Braavos, Essos.**

****

* * *

Rhaenys awoke breathless in her room in the _Green Eel_ , unsure if she really was there or not. At that time, she did not knew if something she had dreamed of or what she thought remembered was real or not.

Unlike other times, this time, she was able to remember the dream for the first time so vividly, as if it had really happened. She felt as if she had truly awakened after living two entire lives and now her third life was beginning.

But unlike the other times, when _Nys_ woke up this time, she felt that maybe it was not madness.

 _'Maybe it's all true. Maybe it's true that I lived inside the dragon's sister and I fainted when I saw him again.' Nys_ thought as she focused her eyes on the environment.

It looked like it was dawn, given the light that was beginning to filter through the curtains of her window. Grandmother was not present in her bed and it seemed that the bed had not been touched since the day before.

 _Nys_ for her part, continued to wear the same dress that she had ' _Worn? Dreamed of wearing?’_ to see her ' _Father and Brother? And the Conqueror's dragons?'_ _Nys_ tried to collect her thoughts, realizing that she was about to go crazy, because she was unable to understand anything.

 _"[Your Grace, are you really telling me that the return of grumpkims and snarks is the motivation behind all the plans you just laid out for us?]"_ _Nys_ heard _Ser_ Jaime's forced high Valyrian from the other side of her room's door, coming from the inn's solar.

Before processing what _Nys_ just heard, a new voice that she had not heard before, except on one occasion during this life, spoke in an exquisite high Valyrian, with steel and a certain sarcasm linked in its vocalization, a phrase that convinced her that she was neither mad nor that it had all been a dream.

 _“[Look Ser Jaime, if it weren't for those damn ice demons and what they could do to humanity, two hundred and ninety-nine years ago I wouldn't have had to spend seven days confined with my two sisters in the Dragonstone Sept. It was more difficult for me to get out of there alive than to carry out the Conquest ...]”_ there was a kind of deathly silence in the solar next to her room, which _Nys_ took the opportunity to bolt out of bed and go to the door.

As she carried out this action, the one who was undoubtedly _the Dragon’s Sister,_ echoed proudly, seductively and arrogantly within her. _'Five and ten days of the name I had been telling you and you were ignoring me. When I took you in my body, I was a far better host than you. I hope you return your discourtesy with interest. Remember that the one on the other side of the door is also my husband. Don't even think about cutting off the connection at the times with him. That would be a good first step to reconcile, Nys'_

Hearing that inside her, _Nys_ stumbled and nearly hit the doorknob. At that moment the same voice from before, which she would sworn was the voice of her brother, or that of her brother, _The Dragon_ , sounded again. This time the steel in the voice was laced with a certain darkness and gloom.

_“[And if not for my squire, His Excellence Branraven, one of those grumpkims and snarks would have killed me, Balerion, and himself. My mother and father have come back to life. The Conqueror's dragons are flying over the city. My Hāedar and my father have dreamed of them. In Westeros we have proof of them. And after all this and the plans that we have explained to you, plus the things that we have told you that we have already done, can you still not believe that everything we are going to have to do is because we are facing a Second Long Night?]"_

Never in her life had _Rhaenys_ moved so fast as hearing those words. She yanked the door open, almost hitting herself with it as she pulled.

On the other side, everyone present seemed to turn at once to focus their gazes on _Nys_. Davos, Marya and their children, were standing in the left corner of the solar trying to go unnoticed, it seemed, away from the central table. Davos was in a somewhat rigid posture, as not knowing how to act. While his three sons seemed to be exposed before one of the _Old Gods_ , for their reverential expressions.

 _'Now that I fall, what is that mass of white, gray and brownish gray furs that is clustered in the right corner of the solar, just below the large window?' Nys_ asked herself when she fixed her gaze on the other corner of the solar.

Something in that ball of fur seemed to be listening to _Nys_ internal question, for out of the shapeless mass of fur, a gigantic dog, though much more ferocious-looking, shot out in her direction.

It fur was white and gave the impression of being fluffy. The eyes were of an unfathomable red, which seemed to show intelligence and recognition of who she was. Before she knew it, what must have been a middle-aged wolf now that she was looking more closely was lunging at her.

In the blink of an eye she found herself full of drool up and down. While the wolf seemed satisfied with his work, for with the tail swinging in joy, the white wolf marched under the large rectangular table that presided over the room.

Looking back in the direction the white wolf had come, _Nys_ saw that the rest of the furball was made up of two other wolves, somewhat smaller in size, but equally fierce in appearance and intelligence.

Two small figures, in which _Nys_ had barely relapsed, were one over the other, both on a pair of mats, looking at her in diametrically opposite ways.

One of the figures was a girl of approximately eleven days of her name. Slender and who promised to reach if not _Nys_ height, not stay very far. With deep gray eyes that seemed dark, and dark brown hair pulled back over his left shoulder. The girl gazed at _Nys_ with a hostility she didn't understand what had done to deserve.

The other figure, was a boy about ten days of his name, with long auburn hair covering the entire left side of the face. The uncovered eye was a crystal blue that reminded _Nys_ of the waters of the _Arbor._ That eye looked at her, piercing _Nys_ with curiosity, while pretending to know what all her secrets were.

 _'Something about that child makes me uneasy Nys. There is something that I do not know how to explain it, but that terrifies me of that child.'_ And that was something in which _Nys_ fully agreed with the _Dragon’s Sister._

 _'It reminds me of the Senya from before Hellholt. The boy seems to distill magic around him.’_ confirmed internally _Nys_ the sensations of her life partner.

As _Nys_ focused her gaze on the table, she could see a multitude of papers spread out on the table. Among them, she was able to identify contents that were traditionally sealed in her and her grandmother's chest; Her grandmother's and _Nys_ herself birth certificates; the marriage annulment of her parents; the one of the wedding of her father and Lyanna Targaryen; as well as the birth certificate of Arthur Rivers, the son of Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark who was posed as her brother and which had such a tragic end.

When observing the occupants in the six chairs around the table, _Nys_ could notice different emotional and tired states. From the appearance, it seemed that they had been engulfed in conversations all night.

 _'And from what I have heard, in plans of conquest and in the fulfillment of my dream.'_ thought that made _Nys_ have an immediate chill that did not go unnoticed by her brother, who made a move to get up, but stopped short when Aegon saw that was being totally ignored by her.

 _Nys_ knew he was Aegon, although with somewhat changed features, slimmer and less broad in the shoulders. But for now she did not want to look sideways at her brother’s face, because she was afraid of what her reaction would be to him.

 _‘Easy, I am not going to do anything inappropriate in front of the whole family Nys. Remember that we think and feel quite the same.'_ _Rhae_ told her _,_ who was doing her best inside _Nys_ , to go and throw herself into their brother's arms. But _Egg_ was not the only one present at that table.

On one side of the table, _Nys’s_ grandmother, Gerion Lannister and Ser Jaime were sitting. Her grandmother was dressed the same as the day before, in a dress identical to hers, but less low-cut and tight. Her body expression was relaxed and seemed overflowing with happiness. Grandma seemed to have an unnatural shine in her gaze, while a smile from ear to ear seemed plasticized on the face. Her eyes were red from crying, but they had a spark of hope and joy that _Nys_ had never seen in _grandma_.

 _'It's like a new person who is in my grandmother's place.'_ _Nys_ thought, analyzing her carefully.

The warm look she shot _Nys_ had the effect of reassuring both her and _The Dragon’s Sister. A_ t the same time that her grandma showed an infinite love for her as she had never done before. It seemed that she was looking at _Nys_ for the first time in her life and she was Rhaella’s greatest treasure. The one which she had to protect at all costs. There was steel in her grandmother's gaze that she had never seen and that was dislocating her.

 _'Since when does your grandmother have the look of my mother Valaena?' Rhae_ asked inwardly _surprised_ to something that _Nys_ would never know how to answer. _'Like you, I know Valaena's gaze well and I had never appreciated it on my grandmother. That look of a mother dragon with her hatchlings, had never been present before.'_ _Nys_ replied internally to _Rhae_.

On either side of her grandmother Rhaella, Gerion was on her left and Ser Jaime on her right. Both continued to wear their full armor and while Ser Jaime seemed to be between incredulous and totally in awe of those before him, the first of the Lannister seemed tense like a bow before launching an arrow. 

Her _Uncle_ Gerion's eyes were feverish and sweat beaded on the forehead. _Nys_ grandmother's left hand was on the _Laughing Lion's_ right knee, trying to reassure Gerion, but it seemed totally ineffective.

 _'How do you think your father will take the news? Because we know exactly the number Egg will put on him. If I were Gerion, I would be even more decomposed, Nys. Maybe because I have seen him with Blackfyre in hand and this man has not.'_ _The Dragon’s Sister_ commented with large doses of humor in _her_ tone _,_ and then added.

 _'By the way, I must admit that I find it absolutely liberating to be able to express myself again freely and as my own entity. There were times when I thought you were going to drive me crazy with so much doubt about our life. I now must tell you the same thing that I told you the day we met. You will always have me and I will always have you. We are one and the same, never forget it. Now let's continue observing and enjoying the attention that we are garnering. We certainly still remember how to make an entrance.'_ _Rhae_ told her with some reproach at first, but with sweetness, affection and infinite pride at the end, comforting _Nys_ completely.

The _dragon sister's_ comment brought a smile to _Nys’s_ face that was immediately noticed by her father. _'Yes, my real father, not the cold and distant Aerion. In this we come out winning. The memories I have of Rhaegar is that he was close, affectionate and funny in his style._ ' _Nys_ commented to _Rhae_ , who seemed amazed at the almost adolescent appearance of her father, something that she now remembered, also impacted her when _Nys_ saw him in the _Iron’s Bank Square._

 _'I have no doubt that magic like the one made during the Doom is before us. It was always my suspicion about the two of us and it is becoming clearer now. Your father, I'm sure, has come back to life after a ritual of fire and blood._ ’ affirmed her _alter ego_ with some alarm, making _Nys_ remember the images of the whirlwind of fire that enveloped her, which was one of the last things she wanted to remember. _'The last, will be the spectral beings with inhuman blue eyes of which they were talking. I'm afraid that we will have to see them again.'_ Rhae added somberly.

"Rhaenys, what a joy to see you again daughter." the warm and melodic tone, but with iron laced on it, of her father Rhaegar took _Nys_ out of her internal conversation.

In front of her grandmother and the Lannisters, a beautiful woman with silver eyes, porcelain skin, and thick full lips occupied the position at Aegon's left, right in front of Ser Jaime. She was the person closest to _Nys_. Her hair was dark brown, almost jet black, gathered in a very long and elaborate braid that crossed her chest from above her left shoulder.

The woman stormy eyes seemed to express doubt, guilt, and some apprehension towards _Nys_. The gesture was one of poorly concealed grief and her attitude possessed an air of defeat, which immediately made _Nys_ feel bad for this girl, who shouldn't be older than her.

 _'After the descendants of Valyria, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. But something in her eyes when she saw us, the pain and guilt perceived in her, have torn me inside. Who can feel so bad for our fate?'_ Asked _Rhae_ , whom _Nys_ has to be put to date of all that she blocked her or cut her within their connection, because of her denial for five and ten days of her name.

Nys could only think of one person who could feel directly responsible for her life other than her father. The smoky eyes, the pale complexion and the dark brown hair, almost jet black, finished telling her who the woman was.

 _'The second mother that I’ve always wanted to know and who died together with my brother. You're certainly right about the fire and blood magic involved in this. When her brother Eddard Stark showed Lyanna’s bones to the usurper, she should not have met eight and ten days of her name.' Nys_ responded to _Rhae. For it was_ Lyanna Targaryen who was just three feet away from her.

Her father Rhaegar, sitting to the right of Aegon, right in front of Gerion, addressed _Nys_ again.

Father’s expression reflected a certain fatigue, concern and bags were beginning to threaten to appear under the eyes. But except for that, _Nys’s_ father seemed to be overjoyed. He was watching her with deep, almost black eyes with a devotion that could be palpable. Rhaegar’s gesture was totally open and relaxed, as if a gigantic load had been lifted from him and was able to breathe normally again.

“When you saw your brother last night, you lost consciousness. Bran,”said _Nys_ father pointing to the eerie boy in the corner. “your brother's brother, has told us that you have apparently gone through something similar to what Aegon has _experienced_.” her father Rhaegar finished with a barely audible tone and with pain in him.

 _'Brother? What brother does Egg have? Is this Orys? He doesn't look like…' Rhae_ asked her the same doubt _Nys_ had, although the end of what her father said had totally diverted Nys’s attention.

 _'Rhae, I don't know if I understood correctly, but I think they know that you are here with me. Otherwise, how can someone speak the same, address the same, act the same and be almost identical to the Dragon? Do you think the silver streaks that appeared on his eyes on the fifth and ten day of his name have something to do with it?'_ she asked herself and to the Dragon's sister.

Placing her eyes really for the first time on _Nys’s_ brother in this life, she could appreciate a face similar to the one Aegon always had, albeit with more elongated and sharper features. Except for a small scar under the left eyelid, the same look that _Nys_ saw for twenty-two days of the name but that in the previous eight name days they were not, remained. The streak of silver on a black and purple background that appeared in Aegon’s eyes the day he bonded up with _Balerion_ was there. Gleaming and striking in Aegon’s gaze.

For a moment, the look on her brother face looked like the face of a helpless puppy, with his lips pursed down and frowning.

When _Nys_ put the mischievous smile that _Egg_ knew perfectly well, her brother’s face was transformed into one of ecstasy and triumph, lacking time to jump out of the chair and close the distance between them.

Like their father, Aegon had discarded _the Dragon's armor_ , but continued to wear the silk cloak she wove for him and a doublet quite similar to the _Myrish_ she used to acquire for him, albeit without the reptilian scale pattern.

 _'Something that I will have to solve.'_ She thought to herself, before Aegon engulfed _Nys_ in a hug that sucked the air out of her lungs as he lifted her two feet off the ground, bringing her to Aegon’s height.

When their eyes met, it seemed as if a thunderstorm was taking place on the site and, before the astonished gaze of those present, she and her brother merged into a passionate kiss like the first of that type, at the _Dragonmont._ As in the day Aegon make the ten and fifth day of his name.

 _'If we've ever had doubts about who our life is, I think it is confirmed now. These are the same sensations as that kiss. There is nothing more correct and natural than the love between Aegon and us. And damned those who think differently or dare to oppose our love.'_ promised _Rhae_ with a vehemence and aggressiveness more typical of _Senya_ than her own. If it weren't for being unable to process anything and having her head half melted from the kiss that had taken _Nys’s_ breath away, she would have affirmed point by point what _the Dragon’s Sister_ had said _._

“Ehem…” grandmother forcefully coughed, returning _Nys_ to the solar and to the present. “My girl, why don't you ask your _brother_ to introduce you to the new members of our family. Then there will be time to explain everything to you at detail. But I suppose that you have heard something from the other door and I think that you yourself have experienced something that you have never told me. I want you to know that I don't hold a grudge against you and I can even understand why you didn't. But if you had told me, you can be sure that I would never have thought anything bad about you.” grandmother said tenderly.

Although it was a moment of happiness, sometimes _Rhaenys’s_ character was stronger than anything. _‘And your grandmother has interrupted our kiss with Egg.’_ Added inwardly _Rhae._

“You mean, you wouldn't have thought I was mad as grandfather? Because until less than five minutes ago, I myself had my doubts about it…” _Nys_ said with some disbelief towards her grandmother's words and with a lot of uneasiness about the last thing. _Egg_ noticed it and didn't hesitate to grab her by the waist again, to stick her next to him.

"[ _Rhae I present you my mother, Lyanna Targaryen, who is this beautiful lady who is before us.]"_ Aegon broke the awkwardness, beginning the introductions, using a reverential tone very unlike in his usual cold and steely voice.

 _'What the hell has happened to him in this life?' Rhae_ asked _Nys_ internally, something she herself wanted to know too. But now was not the time for awkward questions. Better to let _Egg_ and her father explain the situation.

“[ _It's a real pleasure, Your Grace. I want you to know that_ _I am, was and will be sorry the loss of your mother_ _. And I swear by the Old Gods that I will do everything in my power to see justice done in Elia's name. Regarding of being your step-mother… I think we are the same age...]”_ said her father's wife in stiffly High Valyrian and with great regret the entire first part. Eventually Lyanna’s voice became rather doubtful, so _Nys_ decided to let her continue, nodding her head.

“[ _I do not pretend, nor will I ever be able to replace what you have lost, but I would like you to know that you can count on whatever you want for me. I cannot, nor will I fail, the daughter of the love of my life and the sister-wife of my son.]"_

Everything in _Nys’s_ father's wife exclaimed sincerity, some regret, sorrow, doubt and need for acceptance _'I think this girl would not be able to lie well even if her life depended on it. We have to give it a try. She also refers to you with the title of Queen, something that could claim for her. We certainly have a lot to catch up with.' Rhae_ commented from within herself _._

“[ _First of all, let's forget about titles when we are within the family only. When I found out that my father was going to marry you, I was very excited. I loved the idea of having a second mother and a brother. I don't see why it should be different now.]"_ _Nys_ answered completely sincere to Lyanna, who upon hearing the answer was excited and on the verge of tears. Her brother and father for their part, both had a dazzling smile that reached their eyes.

' _It seemed as if they had been fearing the worst and seeing the best, they have rejoiced and liberated in a certain way.'_ She reflected, analyzing the reactions.

“[ _The girl in the corner is Arya Stark, my sister from a different father and a different mother. I'd love for you two to get along. Her heroine is Senya, but I am convinced that you can show Arya that you were also fundamental, without having to wield a sword.]” The Dragon_ said in a friendly and warm tone, again almost without some of his typical mechanical and metallic intonation in it.

The girl bowed her head and shoulders politely, plastering a false smile on her face. The Stark’s girl eyes were another story, as they continued to look at _Nys_ with barely contemned hostility. "[ _It is a pleasure to meet you, Sister.]"_ The girl replied in a forced _High_ Valyrian with strong accent. The gesture was accompanied by a look that seemed to mix jealousy with incomprehension.

 _'Is she in love with Aegon? Does she idolize Senya? It seems to me that we will have to have a conversation with her and make it clear that we are not going to steal anything that we did not possess beforehand.' Rhae_ commented internally with some presumption _._

 _'I don't think she's in love, or she doesn't seem like it. Rather, I think she's being overtaken by events. Let's not judge until we know the whole story behind it. From what we know so far, it Aegon’s maternal cousin, so I imagine that the boy will be too.'_ Nys answered _herself_ internally while answering the Stark girl.

 _“[The pleasure is mine, little sister. I hope you tell me all about yourself and your life with Aegon. If he considers you his sister, you are also one for me.]" Nys_ replied with a polite and somewhat neutral voice, at the same time she made a subtle bow with her head in Arya’s Stark direction.

The Stark girl seemed taken aback by the familiarity _Nys_ had adopted with her, lowering the hostility in the gaze a bit, but not the Stark’s distrust of _Nys_. The strangest thing was the frown the girl made when _Nys_ pronouncing her brother's name.

 _'I don't understand, what does she have against Aegon's name?'_ asked _the Dragon’s Sister_ , something that _Nys_ was unable to answer right now. Although it was a new detail to note, it gave the impression that this second life of Nys’s _lēkia_ had been complex to say the least.

Aegon took the opportunity to continue with the only presentation that was missing, although this one had already been half introduced. _“[The boy next to Arya, as I suppose you can imagine, is Brandon Stark. Like her, he is my brother from another mother and another father, as well as father's and mine squire, among other things ...]"_

“[ _It is a pleasure to see you again, Your Grace. You can count on me for everything you need.]”_ the Stark boy said pompously, in a _High Valyrian_ that was even better than _Nys’s_ own. The tone was childish and detached, but something in the timbre of the Stark’s voice was disturbing.

 _'Not to mention the veiled mention that we had seen each other before, when both, you and I, know that we had never seen him in our lives.'_ contributed _Rhae_ a detail that had almost gone unnoticed for _Nys_.

 _'Without a doubt, despite the hostile gaze of Arya, it seems that the boy is someone to take account and better have him on my side.'_ _Nys_ replied, thinking the weight that this _brother_ of _Egg_ could have about the making decision.

 _“[I appreciate the trust and loyalty that both you, as your sister, as well who I suppose is your aunt is, place in me. I hope I am worthy of it.]”_ Nys answered quite politically, with a seductive and close voice.

She was trying to be as sincere as she could be, while ingratiating herself with her husband's _new family_. The tender grip of her Aegon’s hand around her waist, only reaffirmed her that she knew how to read the situation perfectly.

 _'Nys, it's time to get back to be who we are. It's time to be a Dragon again.' Rhae_ urged her from _within herself._

And _Nys_ couldn't agree more. The blood from the _Forty_ and Garin flowed through her veins. She had been a key piece in the _Conquest_ and in the creation of the _Seven Kingdoms._ She was responsible for all of this situation because of her dream. And she would be the one who would help her brother to defeat it or perish in the attempt.

_“[Aegon's family is my family. It was so, it is so and it will be so. I Rhaenys Targaryen, the Dragon’s Sister, swear this to you; The Dragons have returned. And this time they do it with Wolves by their side. No one will oppose our mission. We will overcome the Darkness of my dream, whatever the cost.]”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those fiction authors who manage to publish regularly, I applaud them and give them my congratulations and thanks. They manage to produce material to distract us from the terrible situation we are experiencing and we even notice a certain revitalization of the fandom (something that gives hope. If after the last 4 seasons perpetrated by D&D, this fandom can recover, the world will!)


	20. Jaime II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Identity disclosures and the assumption of office

**Thirteenth day of the seventh moon of 297AC. Braavos, Essos. **

_"Ser Jaime of House Lannister. Firstborn son of Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna of Casterly Rock. Served against the Kingswood Brotherhood as squire to Lord Sumner Crakehall. Knighted in his 15th year by Ser Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard, for valor in the field. Chosen for the Kingsguard in his 15th year by King Aerys II Targaryen. During the Sack of King's Landing, slew King Aerys II at the foot of the Iron Throne. After that, he fought against Ser Amory Lorch to save Princess Rhaenys Targaryen life. He failed in his endeavor, dying alongside the princess and the assailant by Wildfire. Since then, remembered as the Kingslayer or the Princess Protector."_ Entry in the White Book of the Royal Guard, made by Ser Barristan AFFC, Jaime II (With an addition to put it in this AU) _  
_

* * *

"Ser Jaime, we have to talk" _Aegon Targaryen, the fucking Dragon Reborn_ , addressed him _._ The _Dragon’s_ tone was warm, within the apparent inherent steel tone of the _boy out from the songs_ , but a bit tremulous. As if he doubted how to approach what he wanted to talk to Jaime about.

 _'This boy, who I have not seen at any point of the narration of his incredible story barely flinch, suddenly seems alarmed and agitated? Why I have the impression that I am not going to like his words?'_ Jaime thought as contemplated the serious face but with some concern of the one who _conquered_ _Westeros_ once upon the time.

For his part, prince Rhaegar seemed to have lost his typical composure, revealing a variety of emotions rarely observable in the prince. It seemed as if he was worried, at the same time that was watching Jaime, up and down, searching for something

 _'But what?_ Jaime wondered to himself. The wife of the crown prince and mother of _the Dragon_ _Reborn_ , looked at Jaime with curiosity and her attitude reflected a certain apprehension towards the subject that her son was going to mention.

The little Stark girl seemed more keen on throwing daggers with her gaze at Rhaenys, though without the initial hostility that existed during the introductions and storytelling on both sides. Meanwhile, the sinister boy gave the impression of being in a world totally separate and distant from the one in which they were. Still, his presence seemed to permeate everything, as if somehow he was seeing everything, including what was going through Jaime’s head.

The attitude of Jaime’s _King_ and the _King’s_ _father_ , coupled with the expectant air in the ' _Queen? Princess?' Mother_ set off all Jaime’s internal alarms. Suddenly felt as if he were moments away from facing a horde of _Dothraki_ alone. His body tensed even more if possible. The exhaustion of a sleepless night and the emotional discharges that had taken place around Jaime, only reinforced the feeling of exhaustion and alertness.

Thinking inwardly, Jaime tried to rationalize what he now knew.

' _The Conqueror reborn?'_ Why would it be a lie? ‘ _Rhaenys died and came to life in my arms. If not, how to explain the events of the night of the Sack?_ ' Jaime affirmed what had just been informed of, with what he had seen and experienced first-hand.

_'And if I had doubts about that, the presence in front of me of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Lyanna, dead for fifteen years, only confirms what I always suspected. That with the Targaryen scions and blood magic involved, anything is possible.'_

Taking a look at the three creatures from the legends, who supposedly if they existed should be beyond the _Wall_ , but who were now in a shapeless ball of fur in a corner of the solar, only helped to reinforce the ominosity and veracity of the words that Jaime had been hearing in the last hours of his life.

_'Who is going to notice three Direwolves when there are three gigantic dragons flying over the city? Anyway, when you see legends come to life, you notice those that cover the sun with their wings, not the hypertrophied dogs with an aspect of unparalleled ferocity.’_

That the Stark boy is a practically a _God_...? _'I think I can no longer rule out anything_.' Affirmed bewilder Jaime to himself.

That behind _Robert's Rebellion_ there was a conspiracy on a larger scale that had been for decades, perhaps centuries, in the brewing? _‘Undoubtedly. No one sets out to overthrow a power established for more than 250 years without knowing that they have contingency plans. But who took advantage of the movements of the Great Lords and the alleged kidnapping of Princess Lyanna? Who have been behind the scenes pulling the strings since times of the Unlikely?'_ According to Rhaegar and Aegon, that was the moment when certain actions could begin to be traced that led to the events of sixteen years ago.

The return of the _Long Night_ and the _Others_? _'More doubtful…but, after what I have seen and heard, I cannot completely rule it out. I may not be one hundred percent convinced, but I never saw the prince as someone who hid himself behind fanciful lies to carry out his actions. And of course someone educated as the Bastard of the Honorable Eddard Stark, is not going to lie.'_

That _The Dragon Reborn_ intended to rebuild the _Freehold_ and has already founded a province with the _wildlings_ from _Beyond the Wall_ in _Westeros_ and has the fidelity of the _North_? ' _Only possible if the second long night is it to come…'_ reflected Jaime.

But if after all that shock and stories almost impossible to believe, if it weren't for the evidence before Jaime’s eyes there was still something to communicate to him. And that from what it seemed all clear, was going to be much more difficult to digest than all of the above, Jaime did not even want to imagine what the Stark boy or the _Dragon Reborn_ would say next _._

_'Without a doubt, the Dragon's squire is his second in command, or at least that is what it appears from the way of adding small comments in everything that Aegon is telling.'_

“What else do we need to speak about, _Your Grace? Is Your Grace_ going to tell me that we will also have to fight the _Empire of the Dawn_? _Maybe the Bloodstone Emperor?_ Or maybe _his_ _Grace_ is going to judge me for taking down _his_ _kingly_ mad grandfather? If _Your Grace_ has to kill me for my actions, I will accept it. If there is one thing I will never regret, it is to end with that miserable being, for which all of us find ourselves as we are today." Jaime replied, perhaps more defensive than he originally intended and therefore, with large doses of sarcasm and cynicism in his reply.

 _'Gone are the times when I was the proud White Lion. I am no longer able to answer arrogantly.'_ Jaime lamented internally, as he watched as Aegon and Prince Rhaegar exchanged glances, while the former sighed deeply.

Since Rhaenys's appearance and introduction, she and the _Dragon_ had decided to use the same seat. _'Or rather, Nys has decided to sit on top of his brother and hold on to him as if her life depended on it.'_ but at that moment, it seemed as if the weight of his sister and what he wanted to tell Jaime, crushed _The Dragon_ against the chair.

The _boy_ outlined a half smile, wrapped the right arm around his sister's waist, at the same time as he caressed her left hand with the left hand, while fixed his dark unfathomable eyes on Jaime.

“If there is one thing that was clear to me before meeting you, it was that you would be the _Lord Commander_ of my _Kingsguard._ Your explanation of what happened that night and the days that followed, as well as Aerys's plans for _King's Landing,_ have reaffirmed that thought for me. The inner fire you’ve and your defiance to the authority you just demonstrated are necessary in a position like the one you will occupy. But you are wrong if you think that I am going to come to judge you or hold you accountable for what you did with my grandfather _. [If I could have, I myself would have gladly help you. I curse the curses of the Gods on those who shed blood of their kin, for I am Aegon Targaryen, The Dragon. And a Dragon does not respond to men or Gods.]" The Dragon Reborn_ responded now with steel and imposing tone, laced with pride and certain defiance, as he mixed the common tongue with _High Valyrian_ at the end.

 _‘He seems to have as much appreciation for Aerys as I do. And this one was his family ... But if not that subject, what is so extremely important and worrisome, so that has not come out earlier? My appointment as Lord Commander? I doubt that this causes discomfort and apprehension to Princess Lyanna.'_ Jaime thought, trying to accept at the same time that he was the new _Lord Commander of the Kingsguard,_ and that this news, was not what was important in all of this.

Without a doubt, Jaime’s body and facial expression must have shown the internal bewilderment he was suffering, since the ' _Queen?'_ intervened in his favor, quickly cutting off his brother's speech, pitying in a way of Jaime’s internal nervousness at what was about to be revealed before him.

 _“Egg,_ this is not the time to being playing the legendary hero, tell _Ser_ Jaime what you wanted to tell him. And think that maybe our grandmother doesn't think the same as you about our grandfather…”Rhaenys said with a certain humor at first and some doubt and concern in her voice when referring to what was a practically taboo subject for the _'Queen Grandmother?_

Before Aegon could continue, the hissing _High Valyrian_ of the grandmother of both interlocutors interrupted them. With an iron voice that Jaime had never heard from _sweet, caring_ _Rhaella_ before _,_ and with a body expression that Jaime would attribute more to the _Conqueror's missing_ sister than to the timid and introspective Targaryen on his left, this one expressed her opinion.

_"[Don't worry my girl. Your brother has every right in the world to tell the truth. If after Dunksdale I had done something instead of let me be being mistreated, maybe we would never have had to live this whole situation. If I had had the luxury of traveling back in time to that night, I would have also helped Ser Jaime.]"_

The reactions to _Rhaella's_ words were unmissable and Jaime would have given anything to capture the expression of her son. Rhaegar Targaryen's typically stony face seemed to disengage completely, while his jaw could practically touch the table from how open it was. Rhaegar’s eyes had widened like plates. _Rhaella's_ daughter-in-law, Lyanna Targaryen and the niece of hers, seemed to have found a model worthy of admiration in the eldest of the Targaryen family, based on the looks of pride and gestures of approval after her words.

Rhaenys showed herself no less shocked than her father, though it seemed more like she had received a pleasant surprise. _'It seems to me, that after all, the Dowager Queen has more steel than many suspected.'_ Jaime thought, seeing some surprise in Davos and Marya as well. The only two who did not seem at all surprised or at least affected by the forcefulness of Rhaella's words were Rhaella’s grandson and Rhaella’s lover.

 _The Dragon Reborn_ seemed to enjoy his grandmother's display of character, while Jaime’s uncle, Gerion, seemed even more in love if it could be with the woman with whom he had been in a _clandestine_ relationship for five years. Clandestine relationship which was practically an open secret between the group of exiles. _'I have no doubt that in their pillow talk my uncle has heard similar words about Aerys before. Seeing the internal fire that she has, I can understand that it is not only the external beauty that led my uncle to crawl through for her for two years'_

The only one who seemed totally oblivious to everything happening now, was still the unsettling Brandon Stark. The eye that his long coppery hair allowed to observe, showed a crystalline blue, typical of paradisiacal waters. An eye that seemed to be looking at a thousand meters from where it was supposedly perched. That is, in Jaime.

Dale and Allard were still standing by the door, pretending as _Kingsguards_ , trying not to show an iota of reaction to what was happening in the solar, but the younger of the two seemed more interested in the conversation than in the possible danger that could enter through the door.

 _'And of course if there is a moment when we should be aware of external dangers, it is now. A few hours before subduing the city of Braavos and after less than a day that dragons, both humans and legendary, revealed their existence publicly to all the world.’_ Jaime knew inside.

Still, Jaime couldn't blame Dale for his curiosity. If he had been in the boy’s shoes, Jaime would also have been more aware of the conversation in the solar, than of watching the corridor and the stairs.

“My sister Rhaenys is right in what she says. But I am faced with the dichotomy of not knowing how to express it without hurting the parties involved.” said Aegon with some doubt in his voice, which seemed to clearly express his discomfort regarding the subject at hand.

"How Serious is it?" Rhaella asked with a worried face.

"No mother. It is not something that is a matter of life or death, but it is something that Jaime, as well as you, need to know. Ultimately, it affects the both of you.”Rhaegar replied to the question posed by the mother _of the silver prince._

Something that affected him and _Rhaella Targaryen 'They will not tell me what I think ...'_ Jaime’s thought was interrupted by the cutting voice, hard and this time without trembling or doubting of Aegon Targaryen, _The Dragon Reborn_.

"There is no simple or painless way to say it, so I will say it and I hope that the information does not change the relationships that already exist in this family group, or those that will develop in the future." said _The Dragon,_ looking both at his grandmother, as to Jaime.

Suddenly his stomach knotted as cold sweat began to trickle down Jaime’s spine. Jaime knew that the next words the _Conqueror_ spoke would change his life completely.

“Ser Jaime, you are my uncle. Your father is Aerys Targaryen, my grandfather.” said _The Dragon Reborn_ with all the simplicity in the world _._

Rhaella let out a stifled sigh, while both Rhaenys, as well as the little Stark girl's eyes widened. _'It seems that only Aegon, his father, his mother and his squire knew about this ... It can't be true ... That would mean ...'_

"Are you sure about that?" _Nys_ asked between excited and puzzled that, if Jaime could, would have asked But it simply seemed that someone had hit him with a _flail_ or a _morning star_ across the head, taking away all ability to respond, and even to react.

Before the _Dragon Reborn_ responded to his sister and indirectly to Jaime _,_ the haunting Stark child pushed his hair back with his left hand, leaving a picture that froze Jaime in place. Making him almost forget what had just been revealed to him.

The very temperature of the solar gave the impression of descending, at the same time that the sun seemed to be hiding behind a cloud at that precise moment, leaving the room in almost total darkness.

The one that Jaime now fell was the only eye of the Stark child, until that moment crystalline blue, seemed to take on the same bloody color of the tear of blood under the ocular cavity where the absent left eye should be, increasing in intensity at time that seemed to throb.

 _'BY ALL THE GODS WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CHILD?!'_ Jaime thought, incredulous at what he saw, while all the hairs on his body stood on end. _'WHAT THE FUCKING WITCHCRAFT IS THIS? THE DAMN CHILD GIVES ME MORE DREAD THAN THE FUCKING BLACK DREAD AND THE FUCKING CONQUEROR BACK TO LIFE! Of course it is difficult to refute what they had said about him up to this moment ...'_

A voice that did not belong to the world of the living and that did not seem to come from the inert lips of the Stark child, brought Jaime out of the sudden attack of panic that was suffering. And that like Jaime, all those who saw this new facet of the Stark child, seemed to be suffering.

“As sure as the _Wall_ is made of _Ice and Blood_ and the desert of Dorne has sand. As sure as the air we breathe. I have seen both your conception, as your birth after your twin, as well as your patricide…" 

Nobody knew how to react to the harshness and naturalness of the words expressed by the child. Even _the brother_ and sister of the Stark child had been shocked, or at least appeared appalled, at the way to confirm what was information that turned Jaime’s life upside down.

Prince Rhaegar seemed to look at Jaime with a face that mixed sorrow, understanding and concern, while the prince’s mother seemed to be on the verge of a stroke. 

Uncle Gerion's face was flushed and seemed to be in a rage _'With whom?'_ Jaime couldn't tell _._

_'The child may terrify one of the Others and will be less tactful than a hedgehog, but after all, my mother was my Uncle’s cousin? And taking into account what we know about Aerys's dealings with his wife, it is most likely that I am a child born of a ra… '_

“BRANDON STARK!” Princess Lyanna's voice interrupted, with an authority and vehemence that imposed, as she got up to go to the person being addressed, to whom she gave a slap on the ear.

“How many times have I got to say to you? What I say of save the magic and horror antics for our enemies and not for the family? Ask Ser Jaime for an apology right now for the ways in which you have confirmed a piece of news that can be difficult to process." the mother of _the Dragon Reborn_ rebuked her nephew, with a firmness and posture that implied that it was not a request, but a requirement.

Jaime for a moment, felt seeing a scene between a son and a mother.

Immediately, the room returned to full light. As well returned the sticky heat typical of the _Braavosi_ city _._ In the same way, the child's eye returned to its natural color, or what now Jaime believed to be natural, but for the first time since he had met him, the eye really seemed to be focused on its surroundings. And the Stark child really present in the solar.

With a childish voice, totally in the antipodes of the previous one and this time, using the lips, although not without a magical touch in the tone, the Stark child addressed Jaime again.

"Excuse me if I have offended you Ser Jaime. First of all I want you to know that you are one of my heroes, along with _Ryam Redwyne_ , _The Dragon Knight_ or _The Black Merlin._ You are the _Protector of the Princess._ You're one of the reasons I've accepted my mantle. my last intention was to be impolite. Only that I remembered a similar situation in another life and tried to be as enlightening as possible. I'm sorry if my words may have affected you."

“The truth may hurt, but it's not your fault for that. I appreciate your apologies.” Jaime replied with just a small voice, while mechanically nodding his head.

Trying not to think too much that the terrifying child had him as a _Role Model_ or what was the mantle that the child took thinking of Jaime to do it, he analyzed the exchange between aunt and nephew. To try to understand a little better the dynamics in the group of five people that changed his life and that of all his surroundings in one night.

 _'Strange ... The Princess seems more like the mother of the terrifying child, than of the adolescent from the songs. And yet she seems to have total control over these two. Or at least, it seems that the Princess is the only person before whom they soften their quite direct and cutting forms.'_ Jaime reflected before what he saw, not giving much thought to his inclusion as a family member of the House Targaryen and Stark.

 _'If I walk that way, I will fall into a well of self-lamentation and rage that would be useless now. I still do not know this Aegon Targaryen well as to express myself with total freedom and I can’t break myself in front prince Rhaegar ... who is my brother ... And the fucking Conqueror reborn my nephew ... Just like Rhaenys is really my niece... I must be dreaming, there is no other explanation for all of this.'_ Jaime began, without really want him, to process what he now know.

Jaime felt like a deer before the bows of hunters. Totally defenseless. It seemed that someone had moved his world and turned it upside down. Looking around, he could see that uncle Gerion had changed his face to one of enormous concern for Jaime and seemed to be holding himself back to hug him and reaffirm that they were still family.

The _Queen_ ' _Mother? Grandmother? Dowager? My Stepmother? My second mother? They are going to have to explain the hierarchy of the house Targaryen to me again… With me included in it, it seems_.’ had her gaze fixed on Jaime.

Tears seemed to gather in Rhaella’s purple eyes that did not finish coming out, and her face, generally composed, was totally disjointed.

But Rhaella’s expression, was an expression that reflected empathy and sadness for Jaime and without a doubt, for his mother Joanna.

 _'She must know better than anyone what my mother went through to conceive Cersei and me.'_ Jaime reflected internally, at the same time that he tried to direct her an attempt at a smile and a gesture of reassurance, which without a doubt, from the outside, must have looked like a pathetic wince of pain and disappointment.

Rhaella Targaryen had been like a second mother to Jaime and she never hid from him the friendship she had with his mother, Joanna. Or Aerys's infatuation with Jaime’s mother.

Rhaella had always been a shoulder to lean on. When they barely had enough to eat, she did not hesitate to launch herself into tasks that until then were unthinkable for someone of her position. When Jaime suffered injuries in his various journeys through the mercenary companies, Rhaella was the one who would sew his scars every time he returned to the place where they were residing at that time. Rhaella was the one who decided two years ago that it was time to leave behind all her previous _burdens_ and start a new life as ones of the common people.

In the darkest days of Jaime’s life, after hearing the news of the death of Princess Lyanna, the disappearance of her son, who was also left for dead, and the death of the _Kingsguards_ who protected them at the hands of Eddard Stark and his Men, Rhaella was the one who picked up the pieces of Jaime’s broken morale and helped him continue his task of protecting Rhaenys.

The Targaryen matriarch always displayed resilience worthy of the highest praise. A descendant of _the Forty of Valyria_ , who except for prostitution, had done all kinds of work in order to get some cash with which to live from day to day. A woman who, after the terrifying life she had led during her marriage to _The Mad King_ , was able to draw strength for everyone.

And now, when Jaime was shown to be one of the living proofs of the disgrace Rhaella has suffered, what she showed to him was affection, understanding and concern _for him._

 _'If I knew this before, Aerys would have taken much less time to die.'_ Jaime thought. But again, the icy tone of _the princess brought_ him out of his well of pain and disappointment.

“Show some empathy with Ser Jaime, Bran. He's your uncle in law and third or fourth cousin, on the part of your paternal Blackwood great-great-grandmother. I am sure that you would not like to be told that you are the son of the _trout_ and a person who has ruined your life and that of hundreds of thousands of other people. And remember that if not for Ser Jaime, hundreds of thousands more would have died because of that man. And your cousin Rhaenys, Ser Jaime's niece, would not be alive today." Lyanna said in a motherly voice, but with steel intertwined in her words and like something Jaime would swear was as some affection towards him.

 _'Why does the Princess like me, if we only met once and from afar?'_ Jaime wondered, avoiding much thought about the ease with which the _princess_ had resolved the conflict over who he was and what Jaime’s family was.

But at that moment Jaime thought into the end of Princess Lyanna's sentence. He understood that the affection for him came from keeping the promise made to prince Rhaegar and that they had some idea of what had happened that terrifying night of the _Sack,_ before him telling his version of events.

This caused Jaime to recall for an instant the moment when he killed his _Seven Times_ accursed father.

 _'He told me I was his son and I thought he was lying, or having an even bigger outbreak of insanity than usual. The last thing he tried to tell me was that he was my father and I killed him. Doubly cursed. Kingslayer and Kinslayer. And still, I would do it again without hesitation. In fact, I would have done it long before, as soon as I had the chance. If the Gods punish me for it, it is that there really are no Gods.'_ Jaime convinced himself, trying to be able to justify his actions in the past, so that he could reconcile himself with who he was now.

 _'But who am I?'_ At that moment, Jaime was faced with an internal question, which he could not answer himself, at least at that moment.

Therefore Jaime tried to mend his position as best he could. Once Jaime was able to recover a bit from the emotional blow, he thought about the hostile way in which Princess Lyanna referred to the Stark child's mother. And how neither this, nor his sister, even put a face or a frown at the nickname the Princess had used for Lady Tully.

 _'It seems they still have a lot to tell. And this afternoon we will have to go to the Iron Bank. It is clear that with the exception of the children, the women and my uncle, neither the Dragon, nor Davos, nor Rhaegar, nor myself are going to sleep until after the negotiations.'_ Jaime tried to think as a _Kingsguard_ , to avoid _falling_ into his thoughts.

“Jaime, I can understand that all this is a hard blow for you, but I want you to not doubt for an instant that not only are you still my nephew, but that you are like the son I have never had. Never forget it.” said uncle Gerion with great affection, who was suddenly standing on Jaime’s right, resting his left hand on Jaime’s right shoulder.

Looking around again, Jaime saw that the _prince_ had equally risen from his seat, approaching where Princess Lyanna, the Stark boy and girl were. While Rhaenys had come to her grandmother's side, also standing and with an expression of wanting to take air.

Only Jaime and on his diagonal _The Dragon Reborn,_ remained seated _._ The latter seemed to perfectly read the tension and the need to vent the solar’s environment and with a warm voice, Aegon addressed everyone present.

“How about we take a break until after lunch? I'm sure there are many things to process." Aegon expressed himself as he glanced to Jaime and at Rhaella.

“I want you to know,” said Aegon, now directly addressing Davos and the former smuggler family. “that you are fully entitled and free to choose a path other than ours. You do not have to link your destiny to ours. However, I feel that I have a lifetime debt to you and your family. So request, and if it is in my power, I will make it happen." Aegon's voice was iron and warm at the same time. It was a voice that conveyed sincere gratitude, while promising to make his words true.

" _My king_ , I could never ask for anything. We only did what any decent person would do." Marya said with a trembling voice and certainly showing reverence in her, speaking words for the first time since they had arrived to the Inn with such _illustrious company_.

 _'I would bet all the gold in the Iron Bank that the last thing Marya expected when she woke up yesterday, was to end up meeting the revived Conqueror at night'_ Jaime thought sympathizing with the sweet woman.

 _‘Others take me. I myself believed to be in the presence of one of the gods of the Old Valyria when Aegon presented himself in the Bank Square, with Rhaenys in his arms, the Black Dread roaring from above, the dragon of my Niece? ejecting its radiant flame behind him, while the scarlet and black silk cloak flared in the wind.'_ He remembered with a lot more reverence than Jaime would cared to admit.

“I cannot assure you of the final success of our company. Nor if when we reach it, all of us who are now in here, will be present. But I can assure you, and this also goes for you my _Lord_ Gerion," The _Dragon_ said pointing Jaime’s uncle with the index finger of his right hand, as he rose gracefully from the chair and retreating three steps behind it, to place himself in the center of the solar. All with an action that seemed a single movement "That a _dragon_ never ceases to protect and defend its own, in the same way that it will help them to _fly_ in exchange for the trust and faith placed in him."

 _'Now I understand why this boy was followed in his conquest.'_ Jaime thought as he emulated the same gesture that everyone present in the room had suddenly made, including the _Dragon's_ own family _._

The gesture which Jaime took longer than the others to perform, because he was sitting in the chair. The gesture was a very simple one, but one of direct and profound involvement. They kneeled before Aegon.

“Rise. No such representations are needed. I trust that with our actions and deeds, we will earn mutual trust and respect. Without your help I would just be one more man. Together, fighting for a common goal, I am simply the figurehead of our collective effort." Aegon pronounced with modesty and humility. The one who apparently had become the _King_ and _Lord_ of all those present in the family solar of the Green Eel Inn of _Braavos._ The boy's expression denoted some discomfort at the recently made deployment, by those who the Dragon apparently considers his family, or failing that, extensions of it.

Jaime could not get out of his amazement and his emotional sway. He did not know exactly what it was that affected him the most of everything that happened on the last day of his life.

 _'And this boy does not stop causing me a respect like the one that I had not felt for anyone in my life. It's incredible.'_ Jaime analyzed internally, while coming to the conclusion of the only thing that was clear to him. _'I will be with my family until the end. Whatever this may be.'_

* * *

Marya and her children had long gone to the kitchen, where they would surely be talking to each other about everything that had happened. Jaime’s _brother, sister-in-law, stepmother and nieces_ were having lunch in the closed tavern downstairs, also accompanied by the _Direwolves,_ except for the silver one with yellow eyes like the summer sun and who seemed to be that of the Stark boy. The latter had remained in the solar and made as his own the opposite corner from which Jaime stood on the stay, where the Stark had unfolded the contents of the saddlebags that Jaime had seen unload from _Balerion_ the day before.

Before the Stark child, over a huge black and a little oily cloth, were pieces of _Valyrian Steel_ with which the continent of _Essos_ could be practically bought _. Blackfyre, Darksister,_ the rubys band, the wondrous and portentous full armor of the _Dragon_. And finally a _Dragonbone-_ hilt dagger topped by a golden flame.

The wonderful castle-forged steel longsword with a white wooden hilt topped by a deep blue sapphire, which was the possession of Jaime’s _brother,_ prince Rhaegar Targaryen, looked like a trinket next to everything else that was on the cloth.

Seeing out of the corner of the eye the eagerness in which the Stark child polished and cleaned each of the various pieces placed before him with various rags and polishing stones. As well as the Stark’s totally relaxed and energetic gesture, accompanied by a facial expression of joy overflowing, made it seem that someone had replaced the being who had confirmed who Jaime’s _true_ father was, for a nine-day-of his name boy .

 _‘And I don't know if the change reassures me for the better.’_ Jaime admitted to himself. _'At least, proves that he is? Was he? Is he being? Will he be? The Builder and all the things said about him.'_

At the end, Jaime looked at the bright side of the changes in the ways and forms of the Stark child and who happened to be his nephew-in-law. ‘ _A boy who also has me as a role model and knows better than I who I am and what I have done in my life.’_ Jaime concluded, not being able to avoid continuing feeling a deep desire to avoid cross the child's path at least.

The _Dragon Reborn_ for his part, and the reason why Jaime was now standing without having slept _,_ had remained in the same posture in which he had gotten up from the table, staying behind to speak alone with two people, before accompanying the rest of _their_ family.

With Aegon's back as only sight, Jaime could see how Aegon’s head seemed to swing slightly between Davos and Uncle Gerion.

Jaime, for his part, had assumed his position with little solution of continuity, standing in the corner of the solar, about four steps diagonally from his _nephew_ and _King._

 _'If there is a moment that the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard must be with the King, it is today and now. As much threat and fear they may have instilled in the bankers, I have no doubt that they will try to do something against Aegon and the family. And of course having the three dragons flying over the inn and from time to time, descending on the nearby breakwater, does not help to go unnoticed.'_ Jaime thought, trying to focus his head on something that would occupy it, in order to avoid thinking about his new _reality_ and about the _reality_ behind who he was himself.

_'The last thing I need right now is self regret and self pity. I'll have time to lick my wounds'_

“Davos, you have told me that you have experience as a smuggler, and I imagine that from that experience, you will surely have contacts with pirates and sailors. Both your knowledge and your _contacts_ can be very useful to us. If you want, I would be delighted to have you as a naval advisor, as this is a field in which I have almost always been entirely dependent on my relatives of house Velaryon." _Jaime’s Nephew_ said with total sincerity and closeness to Davos _,_ shrugging the shoulders _._

' _Perhaps by repeating the family relationship between them and I, I am able to believe that I am a Targaryen. Or a Blackfyre. Or a Hill. Or maybe a Waters. I suppose it depend on who appreciates that. Although I doubt that this King will give me his sword even in the best of my dreams. Brightroar looks like a rusty iron sword at Blackfyre side. That blade is unlike any other Valyrian steel I have ever seen_. _'_

That was a thought that Jaime could also express about the wonderful armor that Brandon Stark was polishing in that moment. An armor that at times, seemed to flood the room with light thanks to the incidence of the sun on it.

But for Jaime those thoughts were a curtain to numb his mind. His true objective in that moment was to think and fix his head on anything but on what has been revealed to him.

Fortunately, Davos answered the _Dragon Reborn's_ offer _,_ allowing Jaime to observe how the first _distribution_ of power that he saw Aegon carry out, instead of turning to what was hovering in Jaime’s head.

"I don't know if would be qualified for it, _Your Grace."_ Davos replied with conviction in what he said. This was reflected in the face of the former smuggler, as he was looking at Aegon, but also at the tips of Davos’s threadbare boots, as he frowned. "Also, I imagine that when you reconnect with your _relatives_ , they will be able to offer you better services than mine." Davos added politely, if dryly.

Jaime, who had known Davos for more than fifteen years, was convinced that he was wrong about the first assessment _'If you give Davos the means, without a doubt he would manage to carry out what they ask him to do.'_ Although regarding the possible, or, future, incorporation of the house Velaryon, the contribution of Davos was totally true.

 _'Without a doubt The Dragon Reborn will once again have the services of house Velaryon. His other mother was theirs and although it is a house that has been in decline since the Dance, they still have maritime and naval capacity. If you add that to what he gets here in Essos, Aegon can have a large fleet in a short space of time.'_ Jaime analyzed how the situation they were touching could develop in the coming moons.

A chuckle coming from Jaime’s nephew and the moving of Aegon’s right arm extended on Davos's left shoulder, brought Jaime out of his reverie. The hand Aegon placed on Davos's shoulder had a magnificent gold and ruby ring set on the middle finger, carved with the three-headed dragon _Targaryen_.

"Foolishness. Even if house Velaryon comes to us, that does not certify them to be the right to fit for the position. Also, even if that were the case, it would not be a reason to displace you from your position if you show that you do it well. For most things in the life, you just need to have knowledge and common sense. And from the little I’ve learned about you, you have the first in this particular regard and the second in all facets of your life. Before leaving for the meeting this afternoon, give me your answer. If is affirmative, go thinking about a surname and a coat of arms for your house." Aegon sentenced in a cordial and close tone, although without losing an iota of the steel and respect that it instilled, while gently withdrawing the arm from Davos shoulder, leaving it soft on his side.

Although it could be clearly seen that Jaime’s _nephew_ was in a totally relaxed position, this one continued to radiate a sense of power like no one Jaime had ever known or see in his life.

 _'It is as if he were suddenly able to become a real Dragon made a person when the occasion requires it ... Or a Dragon that from time to time seems to become a person if those around him, he considers them worthy of contemplating his human side ... and transmits that feeling to all those around him.'_ Jaime was trying to understand Aegon better, while his thoughts seemed to be reflected on Davos' face. Who was practically in a straight line to Jaime.

Davos's face seemed to adopt a veritable melting pot of emotions, ranging from utter surprise to deepest respect. From that, Davos seemed to pass to admiration and finally to utter disbelief. All this in the brief interval of time in which Aegon's words were processed by the former smuggler.

_'It is not for less. He has been offered to be a Great Lord and have power. If Davos feels like it and our company is successful, his family will have life resolved for generations.'_

Of course, if Jaime had managed to make something clear about _His Grace_ , it was that he was unpredictable and that he was vastly complex. Although Jaime only knew him for less than a day, he was sure that if Aegon wanted to, he would continue to be an enigma to Jaime until the end of his days.

Davos, showing the same ignorance that Jaime had about Aegon, seemed to consider himself to be dismissed, since Davos began the gesture of reverence. Only to be interrupted by _His Grace_ as Aegon extended the left hand to stop what would surely have been rather an uncomfortable attempt at reverence by the man who, with his vessel, went through one of the worst storms in history, to reunite a granddaughter with her grandmother. Something that Aegon's words showed, he also had in mind.

“Similarly, if any of your children wish to join the _Kingsguard_ or remain as my sister's or my grandmother's sworn sword, if they are able to last more than a minute against me, I would be delighted to have them. With the actions of you and your family, it has become clear to me the loyalty, devotion and trust that you have in my family and that is something that I cannot leave without reward." Aegon said this last piece, twisting his head a little to the side where uncle Gerion was, who now seemed to be preparing to face a dragon of the winged worms, according to Gerion’s forehead beaded with sweat and the nervous gesture of the hands.

 _‘I wonder because of why Uncle is nervous. Because he is whose brother is he or because of Gerion’s relationship with Rhaella? Knowing Uncle and seeing who is in front of him, I'm sure it is for both things.'_ Jaime thought, as he watched as an astonished Davos tried to find the words with which to respond to Aegon.

"My king, we are not worthy of such praise." The once-smuggler paused briefly, glancing in Jaime’s direction, clasping his hands. Davos seemed to manage to steer his position, to continue the answer to Jaime’s _Kingly nephew_.

“As my wife Marya said, we only did what decent people would do. I don't know how we can serve you efficiently, but I can promise you that we will never abandon your sister or your grandmother. For me Rhaenys is like the daughter that I have never had and I would give my life for her. So I think this is my answer regarding my services and those of my family. Now I will pass on what _Your Grace_ have tell me regarding my children and they themselves will transmit their responses." Davos replied, now voice firmer, but still a little shaky at the beginning, to speak passionately about the _sister-wife_ of the _Dragon._

Aegon nodded, showing that had already concluded what he wanted to discuss with Davos and that the next discussion would be a private one with Jaime’s _uncle_ , Gerion Lannister. Davos noticed this immediately, briefly glanced at Jaime, bowed his head as formally as Davos knew in deference to Aegon, and walked out the door that led to the corridor on the first floor of the Inn.

Jaime’s _uncle_ was practically hopping from one foot to the other and continually intertwining the fingers in his hands. The sticky heat had stuck the doublet to Gerion’s body, causing the light green of it to change due to the effect of sweat, to a dark green. Jaime was sure, that although he could not see him from the front, Aegon must be fixing eyes on his uncle's. Who was looking everywhere except forward.

"[ _My Lord Gerion, from what I have seen so far, I am convinced that you handle High Valyrian just as well as the common tongue and if it is not annoying, I would prefer to have this conversation in that language.]"_ sounded the iron tones of Jaime’s _nephew_ , linked with a certain hardness and coldness.

“[ _It’s not a problem, Your Grace. My journey through Essos has allowed me to know the richness of the language.]”_ Jaime’s uncle pronounced in a trembling and flattering way, in a hissed High Valyrian that was very reminiscent of Gerion’s teacher's.

 _'By all the gods, he is smart. Aegon has confirmed what he suspected without even asking Gerion and I think my uncle has not even noticed about that.'_ Jaime was amazed at the political and dialectical genius of the _Dragon._

_‘He does not have tact, but knows how to handle the words and the situation so that the other ends up giving in to what Aegon intends. And in this case Aegon wanted a confession before carrying out the sentence.'_

Jaime thought with some concern, that he really would not know what he would do if in the end the situation led to having to choose between saving his _uncle by_ facing his _nephew and king_ , or collaborating with the latter in shedding blood of his own.

 _'I hope I never have to answer that question.'_ Jaime thought bitterly now that he began to better appreciate the complexity of his situation. _'And sooner or later there will be a clash with Tywin and Cersei…Although she is innocent and is family of the Dragon. And Tyrion was a brat during the Rebellion.'_ Jaime tried to maintain some hope of being able to come out relatively unscathed when it came to _family_ choices, from that morning onwards.

Although Jaime’s uncle Gerion had nothing to do with the events of _Robert’s_ _Rebellion and the Sack_ , from a certain point of view, it could be considered that Gerion also did nothing to prevent the _Sack_ or the murders of Elia and the son of Ashara Dayne. Making Gerion indirectly guilty. _‘And that only the birth of Joy and the tensions between him and the one who until a while ago I thought was my father, were the trigger for Gerion’s reproach towards Tyrwin_.’

If Aegon, _The Dragon Reborn’s,_ was one of those who shared this vision of the events after everything explained and told during that night. A vision, probably many other _loyalists_ would surely share in _Westeros_. Adding the fact that Gerion was also _bedding_ with the _Dragon_ _Reborn’s_ grandmother _,_ point to a fleeting future in Jaime’s uncle's life. Or at least out of Targaryen _favor._

Aegon in a completely relaxed posture, rested his left hand on Gerion’s right shoulder. _'But coincidentally, unlike with Davos, now Aegon leaves his skillful hand free.'_ Jaime observed as Aegon accompanied the gesture with a small laugh that it had a certain dark aftertaste. Something that completely baffled Jaime and made Gerion’s face lose the color.

"Ha! Velaena always told that you recognized your _family_ by how they spoke the tongue of the _Forty._ Because, well, even if you don't want to, the teacher's way of pronouncing is inherited by the student." Now Aegon spoke in the common tongue with a strong northern accent, leaving Uncle Gerion like a fish out of water, Jaime wide-eyed and the Stark child giving a giggling click.

“You had nothing to do with the acts of the _Sack_ and possibly acting against your brother Tywin, if you could, would have been counterproductive to your health. So don't worry about that. Just as a child is not responsible for the sins and acts of his parents, neither is a brother of the sins of his siblings." Aegon’s harsh voice resounded with steel in the solar, exempting with a stroke of the pen all possible acts of his uncle in the past, although without lowering the hardness and coldness of the tone one iota.

"So tell me my Lord Gerion, what do you want with my grandmother?" Aegon said now imperative, with a totally tense gesture and dangerously drawing Gerion with his right arm towards where Aegon was stand, now being face to face, a few inches apart, at the same time that triggered the tension in the situation.

Jaime was about to intervene in favor of his uncle. But it seemed that something in the gaze that the _Dragon Reborn was_ giving Jaime’s Uncle, and that he could not perceive from his position, completely loosened Gerion's posture.

Then Jaime’s uncle lowered his head in defeat and surrender. With just a small voice, Gerion began to say. “I intend to make her as happy and safe as possible as I can, while giving her the love that she had never been given. My intentions are totally honest with her. And if your grace desires and she wishes, I would be delighted to marry her on the _Isle of Temples._ Furthermore, if such a union occurs, myself and any possible fruit of our union, will renounces to the inheritance rights of house Targaryen.” concluded uncle Gerion, who during the speech was able to straighten his posture, returning the gaze to Aegon, maintaining a firm and sincere voice.

Jaime’s _nephew_ immediately relaxed the posture, pulling away and letting go of Gerion, while nodding with the head.

"The _bedroom issues_ that exist or not exist between my grandmother and you, is something in which I do not intend to interfere. The vows you both want to take or not take are not my business. Both of you are older to know what you can do and how you do it. What I am questioning my lord, is your _loyalty and honesty_ to House Targaryen. As you well know, sooner or later, we will collide with your family. Almost certainly spearheaded by one of yours brothers. So this is a warning and an opportunity. Reflect on the words I have said to you. I do not intend to annihilate your house, unlike what your brother did and later tried to repeat." said coldly, although in some moments exuding a certain sarcasm and in others genuine repulsion, the _Dragon._

"Tywin has his life forfeit, but the vast majority of your family have never done anything against me or my family, at least to this day." Aegon sentenced at first with hostility and at the end with some empathy.

After that, Aegon shrugged and extended the right arm, pointing to his uncle with the index finger "When the time comes, that will come, if the current Head to _Casterly Rock_ not comes to be part of the _Freehold_ , know that I would have no other way to solve the issue than having to _replace the Head_. In that hypothetical case, you would be my candidate for that position. Think, reflect and tomorrow morning tell me your decision. You can check with my grandmother if you wish. But I'll clarify one thing for you now. If you ever gabled swimming occurs to you, you will meet the wrath of a _Wolf and a Dragon.”_

Gesturing with his left hand to interrupt Gerion's possible reply, Aegon concluded. “Don't answer me now, take your time. I would be delighted if whatever final decision you makes, first you will accompany us to the meeting with the _braavosi_ this afternoon _._ So, we’ll see you before leaving for the gathering. "

Uncle Gerion knew he was now dismissed, for after swallowing, bowed gracefully, turning round on his heel and leaving the solar with all the dignity Gerion could muster in direction to the corridor and possibly his room.

Jaime lost sense of his surroundings, gaze fixed on Gerion's retreat. So Jaime hadn’t realized that just a few feet in front of Jaime, almost at his height, face to face, was Aegon Targaryen.

Recalling in Jaime’s head the words of the night before in his presentation _'The first and sixth of my name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and of the Nine Provinces of the Freehold of Valyria. King of Westeros and Lord of Valyria. The son of ice. The son of Fire. The King in the Shadows and The Dragon Reborn. The Promised Prince '_ reviewing the _boy's_ full titles that now Jaime had in front of him, made Aegon seem taller than him, when Jaime would easily get a foot over of him. However, Jaime felt like a child in front of an adult.

Jaime had reasons for this feeling. It was the first time since he had seen him descend from _Balerion_ that they were alone, face to face. _'If we don't count the Stark boy for company. Although in view of what he is, is possibly that he isn’t really in the room right now.'_

“Ser Jaime, first of all, I want to reiterate the statements made to your uncle Gerion. I do not seek revenge against your other family. Or perform a bloodbath to later call it justice. Anyone who had a direct hand in the acts that led to Elia's death, the _Sack_ , the murder of my cousin and my sister, will pay. But nobody else. If when the time comes, they agree to our terms, you know that I will not retaliate. I did it once and I would do it again.” Aegon assured Jaime.

After that Aegon's posture seemed to loosen, his face severe and sharp was softening and a warm glow was shining in Aegon’s unfathomable eyes.

“On the other hand, I want to thank you for everything you have done for my sister and my grandmother all these years. On top that, after the news that we have delivered to you today you have assumed your new mantle with such speed and effectiveness. Although really, was something you didn’t have to worry about immediately, but I can understand why you’re doing it..."

"Your Grace, I ..." Jaime tried to reply Aegon, but it seemed that his _nephew_ wanted to express what he thought and so Aegon let Jaime know.

"Let me speak and then tell me what you want." Said a bit cutting Aegon. Took a deep breath and then addressed Jaime

“First and foremost, remember that we are family, I think we could at least speak to each other by name. To my little sister, I am Jon. For the vast of _Westeros,_ even though they haven't seen me once in my life, I am known, thanks to my maternal uncle as the _Bastard_ of _Winterfell._ To my aunt-in-law, I am _Daemon_ born again and the most hideous abomination that ever lived. For whom I consider my younger brother, I am a being predestined from before I was born, to do something that I supposedly already did. To my older sister, I am _The King in the Shadows and The Dragon Reborn_. To my father, I am _The Promised Prince_ and _The Song of Ice and Fire_ because that's what my older sister thought I would be. For my mother, I am the fruit of a love that she could never give me and that I don't know how to receive. To my _Haedar,_ I am _The Dragon._ For some of _the Free Folk,_ I am one of the _Old Gods_ who has come down to the world to save them from the _Others_. For many others, I will be Aegon Targaryen, the grandson of the _Mad King_ , the product of a civil war or whatever they can think of to insult and denigrate me. But behind all that, is always the same person. Me. And I am Aegon, or Egg. Nice to meet you _Ser uncle.”_ Aegon concluded, displaying a warm smile from ear to ear.

The speech was with excited voice, tremulous, trembling at times, oscillating between _High_ Valyrian and common tongue with a closed northern touch. With a small physical tremor that seemed to be running through Aegon’s body, causing at the same time the neutral mask that had exposed at all times, to break completely.

Before Jaime, there was no longer the one who the night before he had taken for a god of _Old Valyria._ If not, the face full of doubts and insecurities typical of a boy of barely five and ten days of his name, thrown into the position where Jaime’s _nephew was._ Aegon’s eyes, those otherworldly eyes, sparkled and gleamed unnaturally. Oscillating between a black like that of the mouth of an inkwell and a silver purple that glittered brilliantly.

"Jaime, my name is Jaime." he replied shakily, with just a small voice, as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

Jaime was quite unsettled by Aegon's sudden outburst of sincerity and by the ease with which Aegon had included Jaime as part of his family. Therefore, Jaime did not even know what to answer, apart from pronouncing the only thing he knew for sure about himself; his name. Apart from that, Jaime was petrified looking at the face of his _nephew_ , who seemed to realize the dilemma Jaime was in.

“I could guess that your current emotional situation must suck. Believe me, I know what it is like not to know who you are. But in the end we are what we do. Our actions dictate who and how we are, not our parents or the way we were conceived. If you want, you can call yourself Jaime Lannister, Targaryen, _Blackfyre_ or _Florian The Fool,_ that as long as you are yourself and do not threaten our family, I wouldn’t beat an eyelash against you." Aegon replied, showing sincerity in his words, although not without their edge.

“Now take a break. At least until we are about to leave for the meeting. We will need to be attentive this afternoon and while you rest, between my father, my mother, the wolves, the dragons and me, I believe that we are more than capable of defending everyone here without problems." Aegon told him with complete familiarity, confidence and a certain warm touch in his voice, especially when mentioning his mother Lyanna.

Trying not to be flabbergasted at the inclusion of _Princess_ Lyanna as part of the strike force, who would brace itself in the event of an impromptu assault while he took a really needed break, Jaime realized that _his nephew_ harbored suspicions similar to those of Jaime’s regarding the meeting in which the destiny of the city of _Braavos_ and its banking entity would be decided. City and entity with more than four hundred years of history as independent entities behind them.

_'Not even did Volantis get direct support from the Magistrates, Archons, Keyholders and Sealord for its Century of Blood attempt. And now the descendants of those self-exiles from the Freehold are supposed to bow down to the last descendants of the Freehold in exchange for promises of unequaled prosperity and the common union of two continents? Of course they will not accept being mere figure-heads while they give up all the power that they have accumulated over the centuries'_

“Do you suspect that the _Keyholders_ or _magistrates_ are going to try something? Do you think we are going straight into a trap, right?" Jaime asked him directly and without beating around the bush.

It seemed that their relationship was more fluid after the confession about who his nephew was and Jaime did not intend to miss the opportunity to ask what was on his mind.

“I do not suspect, nor do I believe, Uncle. I'm sure of both. I have no doubt that the time will come when swords will have to be drawn, but we must not act _definitively_ until we know the scope of the plans or whom has been involved in them, is that clear?" Aegon told Jaime in a firm and imperative voice, in a way that it was impossible to say no to him.

 _'As much as it seems crazy to me, to go directly and willingly into a trap. Without the dragons and without the wolves. Starting at a numerical disadvantage beforehand with respect to the thirteen Keyholders, the thirteen Magistrates, the Sealord and all the entourage that surrounds and accompanies them.'_ Jaime was thinking internally. Something to which he now had to add not being able to do what Jaime was best at doing in the world and that which abstracted him from all thoughts outside of it.

"Yes ... but that would mean having to make the effort to try not to kill our possible and probable foes, causing that sooner or later, by number only, we can be overcome." Jaime added, showing Aegon that he wasn’t very much in favor of the idea.

_'Fighting against an enemy that tries to kill you and whom you cannot kill, no matter how good you may be, in the end causes the death of the one who cannot kill. And I do not intend to die on the first day of my new life.'_

“All the more reason for you to be rested when it's time to be ready, Jaime. I imagine you don't want to miss the foundation of a _New Province of the Freehold_.” Aegon told Jaime with a confident smile and relaxed gesture, while resting the left hand on Jaime’s right shoulder.

The tone was iron, but the gaze Aegon directed his direction exuded warmth, appearing more concern for Jaime’s rest than for the _moment_ Jaime _was dreading_.

 _'As calm as if he had already had the meeting and it had been successful.'_ Jaime analyzed, trying to decipher the boy, or man older than him in age, depending on how the latter was viewed, which for now, was an absolute enigma for Jaime.

Jaime could not tell if the _Dragon Reborn_ was completely mad, or fully confident in all that he set out to do, even if this seemed crazy at first.

_'Rituals of magic, fire and blood aside, it seems he’s the walking example of the saying that Ser Barristan had about the Targaryen and that according to the old knight, the boy's great-grandfather himself had told him. Jaehaerys II who that now I fall, is my grandfather. Only that my nephew seems to be continually flipping the coin and at every turn, doubling the stakes.'_

Although Jaime should not really be really surprised. Because he was before the person who had established the _Game of Thrones_ as a way to become lord of the _Seven Kingdoms._

' _And nothing combines madness and greatness more than a game where you win or die.’_ Jaime recalled his sister's words when she spoke to Jaime about her projects as the future _queen_ of Rhaegar.

 _'If she comes to know that Rhaegar was her brother and she is also a descendant of Targaryen, I have no doubt that Cersei would have killed any woman who stood between her and her silver prince. Long ago Rhaella showed me the reality that I was the poor substitute. As in the end she herself was with Robert, or poor Rhaella with Aerys. We can't choose those who we love, but politics dictate who you have to marry. If Aegon's new game ends that, so be it.'_ Jaime thought, beginning to feel confident of the success and the correctness of his nephew's _madness_ , while Aegon nodded in affirmative agreement towards Jaime and headed to the exit door of the solar.

"Bran, let's go get something to eat and catch up with the family." Aegon said to his _brother,_ who was really his cousin, leaving on the way to the corridor.

“Get going, Egg. I'm going to help Ser Jaime to shed his armor. He will surely want to rest without it on and it looks like it is not easy to remove without help." said the Stark child with a childish voice and certainly brimming with energy.

 _'Fantastic. To be alone with the child that gives me panic.'_ Jaime thought with some repulsion inwardly. Aegon absently nodded and continued on his way at a steady pace.

Seeing that the Stark boy was looking at Jaime with his head turned to the side and with some expectation in his eye, Jaime tried to break the _ice_ and go through the trance quickly.

In addition, the help would not hurt, since his armor was difficult to access on the back, "Well ... if you help me with the breastplate and the back, I could take care of the rest. I'm used to having to do it alone and you sure want to…” Jaime tried to tell the kid with a certain tremor and doubt in his voice, but was interrupted by the boy before Jaime could finish.

“Don't worry about who your father was or of whom you may have been father. Great men have always raised great controversies around their figure. Be yourself and you will see how that is enough to quell the doubts in your mind. Both my cousin and I have had questions similar to the ones you need to ask yourself now. But in the end, we are who we are, because of what we are meant to be. Things are the way they are for a reason and that is how we must accept them. And you for me are a role model. So if you need help from a squire, know that you can count on me." The Stark boy said with total naturalness and his childish voice, a little high, but distilling something that Jaime could only define as _magical._ Especially when it came to _destinies._

Before Jaime could realize it, and despite the difference in height, the boy had detached the bridles that assemble his armor and had released it, in a movement that seemed to be mechanized. By the time he wanted to realize and thank the Stark boy, the kid was already hurtling out the door, his _wolf_ hot on his heels.

Leaving Jaime alone, standing in the middle of the desert solar, his head full of thoughts, doubts and conflicts. Honestly, Jaime needed to go to the cot _'Or wake up in it after all this reverie.'_ Jaime thought on the verge of mental and emotional exhaustion _._

The Stark boy's words echoed in his head and as Jaime lay down to rest, he couldn't help but think of one thing.

_'Since when the hell am I a father?'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before the "Conquest / War" proper begins (If all of the above is not considered as a war action, of course)  
> In the next chapter there will be a guest POV, with a very short role and we go back into the head of Aejon the Dragon Reborn.  
> After this they will come, Bran II, Lyanna II, (Goodbye Braavos, hello Andalie, Nyr Sar and Jon Conn) Arya II, Rhaenys III (Reunions with relatives in Norvos), a chapters of Jaime / Aejon (Where we will see the creation of the Black Army and the 'Gathering of Qohor'), Daenerys I (The Great Dothraki wedding), Tyrion II (What has happened in the 2 months since he was put in the small council and the situation south of the neck) and Eddard III (The expected harvest Festival)  
> In Dany I, the timeline of the Targs will have reached that of Tyrion I / Mance Rayder (i.e. 6-7 months after Aejon's name day)  
> Tyrion II and Eddard III are contemporaries, happening exactly 9 months after the ritual . That is, 2 months after our last visit to Westeros.  
> So as you can see, everything is ready to start spinning.  
> There is less to finish this arc in Valyria, after which I will begin the second arc, which evidently with Aejon revealed to the world as King, will not be able to be called 'in the shadows hides the Dragon '
> 
> The comments encourage a lot to continue writing, that even if the story has been drawn in draft and on paper, then pass it on here, with the greatest possible respect for the canon, spelling, syntax and that it be a cohesive and coherent story, it has its work (And I also have the worst typing keyboard out there. Typing on hot rock would be more comfortable)


	21. The 'Rebirth' of the Freehold- Bessaro Reyaan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting where Braavos stops being Braavos

** Thirteenth day of the Seventh Moon of 297AC. Braavos, Essos. **

_"Braavos is the odd duck among the Nine Free Cities, but still more Valyrian than Andal in its origins."_ GRRM on Braavos

* * *

**_Bessaro Reyaan_ **

Bessaro, like everyone else of importance summoned to the meeting, was already seated in the front row of the elongated semi-circular stone bench of the Amphitheater, where Braavos hold its elections. The place in where all the _Keyholders, Magistrates, Archons, Electors_ and great landowners of the _Braavosi_ territory were now present was the same where more than four hundred and fifty years had place the first vote taken place to elect the first _Sealord_ of the then hidden city.

And now both Bessaro, as his _colleagues_ and some of his _relatives,_ as well as other _Braavosi_ leaders and landowners _,_ were meeting to decide whether, not only were they once again part of the entity they fled from, the _Freehold._ They would also decide if they were going to give up in exchange for mere and unrealistic promises, all the power that the great _Braavosi_ families had _amassed_ during those years.

' _Especially those related to the foundation and management of the Bank.'_ Bessaro meditated internally the importance and repercussions that would have this occasion that would be marked for posterity and the pages of history.

 _‘I rather die,_ than what they intend to happen _.’_ _Bessaro raged to_ himself inwardly. _'This meeting will ultimately serve to eliminate these cursed Valyrians spawns once and for all, ingratiate ourselves with the westerosi King and see what potential traitors to our cause are among us.'_ He reflected, trying not to show a smile that would betray his solemn face.

Supposedly, Bessaro should be listening to the spiel that the damn _dragon boy was_ giving. Boy that yes, he had to recognize him, with his armor and his bearing, seemed out from the songs. The boy's alleged father, _the somehow revived prince,_ today unlike the day before during the meeting at the _Bank,_ seemed in the background.

Rhaegar Targaryen, returned from the _Seven Hells_ , was with the rest of the _Targaryen family_ on the right side of the black stone dais. The identity of the famous _Last Dragon_ was one of the few certainties Bessaro had about the people who showed up yesterday after descending from the cursed supposedly extinct beasts.

Along with those already present at last night's meeting in the _Bank_ , the _Targaryens_ had appeared today with new companions. Practically _acting_ as a _shadow_ of the _silver_ _prince_ and the _supposed Lyanna Stark_ , there was the one that _Bessaro_ identified as the _Third Sword_ of _Braavos._

 _'Although now with completely golden blonde hair and a military cut, but without a doubt it is the such Aucturum of Tyrosh.'_ _Bessaro_ thought to himself, while watched the snowy cloak that fell from his shoulders clinging to the bridles of the full armor, except for the helmet. Armor which Bessaro would swear was identical to that of the _Kings Guard_ of the _Seven Kingdoms,_ but in black steel that undoubtedly must be of _Qohorí_ made. Above _Aucturum_ left shoulder was a golden cross hilt, topped by the head of a roaring lion, with emeralds for eyes.

The supposed _Aucturum,_ like the _prince_ , _the_ _eerie_ _child_ , as well as the man with the blond hair and emerald eyes, along with the two young men who apparently were guarding the _supposedly deceased_ Rhaella and Rhaenys Targaryen, were dressed in steel from the neck to the feet.

The blonde man and the young men wore black surcoats on which were perched simple double-ringed heavy chain mail. On top of these, at least the two young men, wore steel breastplates and backs plates covered by a black tabard. For his part, the middle-aged man, emerald-eyed and without helmet, wore a completely crimson with gold trim tabard. Over the blonde man right shoulder protruded the hilt of a great greatsword that crossed his entire back, protruding far from the other side.

The two young men wore a helmet with a T-visor, greaves, knee pads, and gorges of apparent Qohori workmanship. The taller of the two wore a white cloak in the style of the so _-called_ Aucturum. On the left arm, both wore simple rhomboid shields. The one of the boy with the white cloak had a totally white field and seven sword on a circle on it, while the shield of the other young man was in a white field and in the center was a black ship facing the front surrounded by what appeared to be black and red clouds.

 _'I could swear both shields are freshly painted because of the vividness of the color.'_ thought Bessaro as he stopped his gaze on the shields. On that same side, on the left hips of both young men, two long steel swords were resting.

To this must be added the fact that the three _alleged Starks_ also carried weapons. The woman who was supposedly the maiden for whom the _dragons_ fell in _Westeros_ , carried on her right hip a myrish-type sword, forged in the bluish of castle steel. At the Stark woman waist was a black hilt topped with a golden flame of what Bessaro assumed would be a dagger or a dirk. The girl who looked like a small copy of the _supposed Lyanna Targaryen-Stark_ , and who according to all Bessaro’s sources if she was the real one, should be found in _Winterfell_ and not before them, carried a sword practically identical to that of _her aunt_ , although shorter.

Even the unsettling and mysterious-looking boy carried on the back a long sword that was almost taller than the boy himself. The sword for its hilt and because its sheath allowed to see part of its steel was easily recognizable. _Darksister_.

 _'Certainly they don't lie about that. Both the dragons, as well as all the historical pieces of the Targaryen Dynasty have ended in some way in the power of these people. Including some that were thought lost to the ends of time. The Bank itself spent its good sums trying to locate the bastard sword that protrudes over the dragon boy's right shoulder and that according to all information, myth and legend surrounding it, it must have been lost or in the Disputed Lands, or in the property of the long dead Lord Bloodraven.'_

All of this, not to mention the prodigious armor the boy wore, supposedly lost to history around the _Conqueror's_ tenth year of reign. As well like the boy’s Valyrian steel band last seen around _Daeron the Young's head,_ could certainly both be worth for, which according to all the sources and records that the _bank_ had recorded, what the _Dragon_ threatened to do more than three hundred years ago. To buy the _Iron Bank_ and the city of Braavos itself.

 _‘Allegedly, this same boy.'_ An internal voice said to Bessaro. Internal voice that he did not intend to listen to. Magic might exist, but it wasn't going to bring the fucking _Dragon_ back into the world.

 _'Although I believe that in his day the Conqueror fell short in his estimation. Only with the ruby band could he have bought this Free City. With the armor he could buy all of Essos except Qarth, Volantis and the descendant city-states of Ghis.'_ Bessaro corrected in his head the true value of what the _supposed Aegon Targaryen carried._

 _'If I were in his position, I would use the armor that way, instead of for protection. For the protection I would pay the Faceless Men and mercenaries.'_ Inwardly, Bessaro rebuked the _boy's_ stupidity.

The reason that the Targaryen representation, curiously without the dragons flying above the city or in the near view, had presented itself armed to the teeth, derived directly from the fact that the _Sealord's_ personal _guard_ had come armed. And above of that, Bessaro and his colleagues themselves were interested that even _scribes_ could carry weapons. Therefore, there was no impediment to this.

 _'Not to mention that one, or those two young men who are supposedly guarding, are Faceless Man paid by us to take down these incest spawn of inordinate ambition. At the most the weapons and armor will help them last a little longer alive, while they watch the women and children die.'_ _Bessaro_ gloated inside, trying not to convey any possible external evidence of what he was thinking. That is why he focused his gaze on the boy with the incipient silver hair.

The supposed _Aegon Targaryen_ was in the center of the rectangle of that strange and almost unique molten black stone that served as a dais from which to expose. Supposedly, only in Oldtown, Dragonstone, Volantis, in _the Five Forts_ of _Yi-Ti_ , among the basalt of the _Westerosi Neck_ and probably, among the still smoking remains of Valyria, could stones like that be found.

Nobody knew where those stones came from or how they were formed for sure, but they all had one thing in common behind their legend. _'The reappeared damn beasts that shouldn't exist. The fucking Dragons.'_

Beasts that seemed to have suddenly disappeared from the _Braavosi_ skies _._ Something that in a way relieved Bessaro. _'What we needed is to be able to kill the Targaryen, without then have their dragons burn us.'_ thought that was accompanied by a cold sweat all over his spine.

The _boy_ who was closing his speech about why they had to vote in favor of his proposition, was undoubtedly a descendant of Old Valyria and imposed even on Bessaro, a healthy respect.

 _'Although I wish his death above anything at this time, I cannot help but feel respect for the boy. Although his plans are utterly insane and impossible to carry out, not to mention the imposition of a tyranny on a continental scale, the boy has a stone balls. Surely without a head attached to his necks, he’s incapable of coming back to life.'_ Bessaro rejoiced, while contemplated the image presented by the _boy_ totally erect and with his shoulders back, easily reaching above meter eighty five in height. Denoting in his apparent relaxation but at the same time in complete muscular tension, a power and self-confidence like no one Bessaro had seen before.

This image of power seemed to be accentuated by the _boy's_ contrasting shadow on the back wall of the hemicycle. Projected and enlarged by the orange, reddish and almost bloody tones of the sky, thanks to the reflections of the sun setting in the west.

The wall where the shadow was cast was a huge composite of relief and bas-relief murals, depicting the history of the city of Braavos. To be exact, represents from the escape of the yoke of _the Dragonlords_ of yesteryear to the construction of _the Iron Bank_ and the revelation to the world of the then _hidden_ city after the _Doom._

Under the dais made up of the extraordinary stone that rose only a scant foot from the ground, a huge mahogany table was arranged, occupied by five _scribes. 'Really only one of them is a scribe, being the only one to record what happen. The other four are water dancers and catspaws hired especially for this occasion.'_

"After what has been stated by _His Grace_ Aegon Targaryen, we will now proceed to vote on what will be the decision of the _Keyholders and Magistrates_ in relation to the property of _the Iron Bank_ and the sovereignty of the _Free City of Braavos."_ the voice from the scribe pulled Bessaro out of his thoughts.

The scribe possibly had even less suspicion than the Targaryens about the eventual ambush. _'After all, today he's the only one here doing his regular job. Perhaps on a topic never discussed before, but that basically consisted of doing the same job as always. Take notes of all expressed. Announce the speaker and his presentation before the representatives of the City, start the vote, then do the accounting of votes and proclaim the result that said accounting offered.'_

All the ceremonial and mechanics around the scribe's profession, something that was a centuries-old tradition in the trade, fascinated Bessaro during his youth. _'Although my father made it clear to me that it was better to be the one about whom the scribe wrote, than to be the poor and vulgar scribe.'_

With the words of the young scribe, came the moment in which each of the twenty-three _citizens_ with the right to vote in this assembly would publicly expose, and if the aforementioned wanted, in argued form, their vote. There were thirteen Keyholders and thirteen magistrates, however, some doubled in their positions, making them twelve magistrates and _only_ eleven Keyholders. _'And that's where my family and our ability to buy votes come into play.'_

Voting had always been public affair and on some occasions, arguments as to why one was voting for or against a proposal had caused vote changes, leading to unpredictable results beforehand. ‘ _But not this time.’_ Bessaro assured himself.

Today the majority of the no against the proposal presented by the _descendant of Old Valyria_ was assured, although Bessaro did not know for sure by how much margin.

 _'What is certain is that thanks to_ the odd number _of voters, we will triumph for sure, even for one vote.'_ Bessaro rejoiced inwardly, trying not to show the slightest outward reflection of his joy.

_'I'll be able to be magistrate of the City and father will be the new Sealord after tonight. Thanks to the Targaryens from the legends and unseen by them, we the Reyaan and the Dimittis will control Braavos and the Bank for the next four hundred years. '_

It would be the _Keyholders_ and their political and clientele networks who would tip the balance in the vote. For both Bessaro, and his colleagues in the Bank's management, had clear that the great landowners of the _Free City would_ undoubtedly be attracted by the offer to change masters at the end of their leashes.

 _'Disgusting. They prefer to submit to the Dragons again, than to be led by their compatriots,'_ Bessaro ranted to himself, as he watched the _brain_ after the ambush rise from the stone bench to emit his vote.

 _"[I, Master Noho Dimittis, as Keyholder of the Iron Bank's_ _management_ _and Second Archon, say no to the yoke of Valyria and the Dragonlords_ _.]"_ _Bessaro’s colleague_ intoned loud and clear, linking equal parts disgust and revulsion at the mention of the origin of the _bidders._

As Noho sat down, the one who now proceeded to rise up to cast his vote was Bessaro’s father. Although father was well into the forty days of his name, closer to fifty than forty, he still maintained a vigor like the one Bessaro never had. Fully upright and exhibiting a better personal image than the _current Sealord,_ Bessaro’s father directed a look into the direction _of the_ _alleged_ Targaryen. His glean turquoise gaze fixed on the boy, while announcing his vote.

“[ _I, Lord Tycho Reyaan, Third Archon and Lord of the_ _Moonsbridge_ , _say no_. _Braavos has been, is, and will be, Free.]”_ Bessaro’s father stated in such a way that it sounded like a promise. Never had Bessaro been more proud of his father than at that moment.

 _'It will be shown as the only landowner who wanted to save Braavos from the_ _Valyrian_ _yoke.'_ Bessaro pondered the way in which these words and the actions that would take place next, would create a story about how his family rose to the top of the power in _Braavos_.

As soon as Bessaro’s father sat down, the next voter, Oro Tendyris was already on his feet. Along with the Antaryon and the Nestoris, Tendyris was the largest landowner in Braavos. And to add salt to injury, Tendyris was also inside the _Bank_ _as_ _Keyholder._ Tendyris and his family had gained a lot of power in recent years and should be _uprooted_ like weeds. _‘I just hope he votes for the Targaryen proposal, so our assassins will go after him.’_

 _“[I, Lord Master Oro Tendyris, as Keyholder, First Archon and Lord of Freneros say yes. Yes to a new future. Yes to a common project that restores greatness to our continent. If there is anyone who can do it, these are the last of Valyria with our help.]”_ announced Tendyris in a lofty and honeyed _High Valyrian_ , with which he no doubt intended to ingratiate himself with those sure Tendyris hoped would be his new masters.

 _'Disgusting.'_ Bessaro thought to himself when he saw the submission of his _colleague,_ after which came his own turn to vote.

Standing as tall as his plump body allowed, with a totally neutral gesture and in a forced _braavosi tongue_ , he announced his vote _"[I, Master Bessaro Reyaan, as Keyholder of the_ _Bank's management_ _, say no.]"_

Then Bessaro smiled in the direction of his father and Noho Dimittis, to then, sit down again. _'Three to one goes the vote. Everything as planned._ _Just as it was foreseeable that now this difference would become a single vote.’_

Since the day before, Bessaro was convinced that Tycho Nestoris had been _conquered_ by the _Prince's_ plan and now was being, along with his uncle and possibly Izembaro, the great defenders of voting in favor of the Targaryen proposal.

 _“[I, Master Tycho Nestoris as Keyholder of the Bank's management and Archon, say yes. Yes to the future. Yes to the unity of two continents. Yes to a common project among all, in order to achieve greater common prosperity. With our help and guidance, I have no doubt that the domains of the Freehold will reach a splendor like never before, or after, will be seen.]"_ Nestoris _uttered_ in lofty _High Valyrian_ , though without any of the mellow present before in Tendyris.

"I, Master Gyllo of Purple Harbor as Keyholder, say no." Bessaro’s _colleague_ pronounced dryly, before Tycho Nestoris had even sat down, and was practically back in his seat before finishing the vote.

"I, Master Tychoros as Keyholder, say no." said the man who had become the latest addition to the thirteen _Keyholders._ A petty thief who managed to steal enough to buy his place and who would never give up his little piece of power. _'And much less to some damn outsiders who seek to take control of half the world.'_

“[ _I, Master Jakob Fugger, as Keyholder, say yes.]_ ” said the next voter, who unlike Tychoros, was a self-made man. Fugger, thanks to a keen instinct for business and the opportunities presented to him, owned or had shares, in almost all the artisan sector of Braavos, Lorath and Qohor. Fugger was a real _danger_ to what _he and his family_ represented. And Bessaro had no doubt that Fugger would side with the Targaryen.

 _'It will certainly be Fugger’s chance to become the one and only Banker that he craved so much.'_ _Bessaro_ thought, unable to not cast a contemptuous glance at the upstart merchant and moneylender.

“[ _I, Lord Master Brusco Forel, Keyholder and Lord of the Marshes, say yes. On a personal note, I would like to offer the services of my house in everything that their Graces and Excellencies may need_.]" intoned seductively and slavishly the second largest landowner in the Free City and the one who controlled the strip of land connecting the various islands of _Braavos_ to the rest of the continent and the dragon roads. Before sitting down, Forel performed an exaggerated bow in the direction of the Targaryen, which he somehow matched with his seating on the stone bench.

The Forel were among the first families to establish themselves as magistrates and Keyholders in Braavos. As well, due to the enclave of their land possessions they were the most militarized family in Braavos. Brusco's nephew to be exact, present as Antaryon escort, there was a time when he was _the first sword_ of the city and now he was still part of the group guarding the _plump Sealord._

 _'For not mention that they are house Reeyan centennial enemies.'_ Since the beginning of the _Free City_ of _Braavos,_ Bessaro’s house had always been in their shadow. If there was anyone Bessaro wanted to see go _down_ even more than the _dragonspawn_ , it was the Forel family.

"I, Master Allaquo, Keyholder and master of Ragman's Harbor I say no." brought out of his thoughts the voice of his _colleague,_ previously bribed by Dimittis. When Bessaro made the mental count, he noted that few Keyholders remained to cast their vote and that, although not as wide as he wanted, the vote was going in the expected directions. _'With the victory of no over madness and tyranny.'_

"I, Master Daaro, Keyholder and master of Antaryonos, say yes." said the Antaryon puppet inside the _Bank._

Although no one spoke it openly, everyone suspected that Daaro was a bastard son of the _Sealord,_ Ferrego Antaryon. And thanks to that Daaro had obtained the necessary coin to access the position.

 _'Daaro has never been shown to be suitable for commercial bets, but curiously, today faced with the biggest bet in our history, he’s favorable to it. By the gods, they are not even able to maintain the charade of for who he really speaks for.'_ thought Bessaro, knowing that Antaryon, since taking the position of _Sealord_ had his vote inhibited.

_'At least in this way it confirms what we suspected; Antaryon is crazy about the music that the Targaryens play and believes that its benefit is to tie his future to them. It is good that beforehand we have ordered that Ferrego and his spawn be liquidated.'_

"I, Master Jyssan of Malaqovos, say no" uttered another of his colleagues as Bessaro continued lost in thought, anxiously awaiting the moment to reveal the truth.

"I, Master Donano de Freneros, say no."

"I, Master Pylan, Keyholder and master of the Andal Coast, say no." announced the sworn enemy of the Nestoris, looking with rather undisguised revulsion in the direction of _Tycho_ and Tycho’s uncle.

Now came the turn of the magistrates, beginning with the _voice of the people_ who was generally a merchant or intermediary without great wealth, but in contact with both the richest and the poor. This made it the perfect meter of what the common people wanted and that from time to time had to be attended to. On this occasion, the _magistrate_ and _voice of the people_ was an old _Water Dancer_ converted into a courtier, theater producer and spice merchant.

_'An absolute climber that would kill his children if it allows him to rise through the ranks. I have no doubt that he will be insane for allying himself with the Targaryens as a means of continuing to climb the ladder of power.'_

"I, Izembaro the Great, Magistrate and _voice of the common people_ of _Braavos_ , say yes." the vote confirmed what Bessaro already suspected and thought, while observed the little man in extravagant clothing get up and sit down to cast his vote.

 _'Absolutely disgusting. Luckily he is included in the list of the soon to be dead allegedly at the hand of the Targaryens.'_ thought Bessaro with joy.

The greatest genius of the scheme with which they would seize the almost absolute power in _Braavos_ and the _Iron Bank_ , was that the fault of everything would end up being the responsibility of the also deceased Targaryens.

Bessaro already imagined what they would say after the meeting ' _Enraged and beside themselves with the negative result of the vote, they tried to destroy us all. But thanks to the first sword, the brave Water Dancers and the Faceless Man of Braavos, we have managed to prevent a tyranny from being imposed.'_

"I, Essorio, Magistrate, master of the fleet and lord of the Arsenal, say yes." the admiral of what was possibly the third or fourth largest fleet in the world took Bessaro out of his thoughts again, surprising him unpleasantly with the favorable vote.

_‘Killing Essorio may present a problem, but now we cannot change the orders given beforehand. We'll deal with that problem when it hits. Although it will surely involve bribing, replacing or eliminating those related to Essorio within the fleet and shipyards.'_

"I, Lord Master Tormo Fregar, Magistrate and lord of _Ironport,_ say yes." said someone who would clearly benefit incredibly if the _Freehold_ aberration was re-created _._ Fregar’s lands on the shores of the Lorath Sea and the _Shivering Sea_ could become a port of merchandise with the entire north of the continent, especially with Norvos, Lorath and Qohor, if the Targaryens survived beyond that night.

"I, Lord Master Gyleno Prestayn, Lord of _Prestaynos_ , say yes." voted favorably another of those who would undoubtedly benefit from a possible incorporation to the _Freehold,_ since Prestayn’s lands adjoined the roads that led to the main _Valyrian road_ in the north of _Essos_.

Bessaro, like his father and the Dimittis thought that without a doubt, like the _presence_ of _the Iron Bank,_ the old _Valyrian road_ was one of the factors that had made the last descendants of the _Forty_ start their conquest of _Essos_ from _Braavos_. In a way, the _dragon’s road_ would offer the Targaryens a route that crossed almost the entire _essosi_ continent still populated.

The road of more than five thousand years old, begin in the foothills of _the Andal Mountains_ east of _Pentos_ , at the birth of _little Rhoyne_ _in the_ _Velvet Hills_. Then the _dragon road_ continued parallel to the river until _Ghoyan Drohe_ , where it separated into three branches; One branch continued towards _Norvos_. The second branch towards _Qohor._ And the third branch ran parallel to the eastern bank of the _Rhoyne_ until it reached _Ny_ Sar, where north of _Dagger Lake_ and _The Sorrows_ _there was a ford_ _._ After that, the ancient road veered east through the abandoned lands of _Ar Noy_ , then cross part of the _Great Grass Sea_ until reach the desolate _Anogaria_ , terminal of the _Valyria road_ from the _North._

"I, Lord Tagganaro Volentin, Lord of Malaqovos, say no." said the father of the first sword of Braavos, for the dismay and concern in the already serious grin of the _Sealord_.

_'Antaryon sure thought that his precious First Sword would convince his father to participate in this madness. What a disappointment he will had when Qarro himself pierces Antaryon’s chest with his sword.'_

"I, Lord Cossomo Zalyne, Lord of Daerves Hills, say no." intoned the Lord of the Hills, who had been purchased by the Dimittis, dryly and scowling.

Precisely after Cossomo, Noho's brother had the vote. The lands of the Dimittis were swampy marshes from which resources could hardly be extracted to support the population that lived in them. Hence, all the wealth of house Dimittis was intimately linked to _the Iron Bank._ Almost unlike all the great landowners in the history of the city, the Dimittis had accessed land once settled in the _Bank._

In its origins, the Dimittis family was the monopolizer of the _bank's_ profession of scribe and accountant, being, as it were, the entity's _stewards_. With the passage of time and the key role that house Dimittis played for their volantine connections during the century of blood, at the same time that a certain territorial expansion of the _city_ _as_ consequence of the involvement and revelation of the city in _Essos_ after the _Doom,_ allowed give the family of his friend and colleague Noho access to possession of large parcels of land.

Generally, the path to power in _Braavos_ was the reverse. In the case of Bessaro and his family, one had land as a descendant of the founding families of the _city._ Thanks to these lands, the families had created businesses that allowed them to amass coin, which they later reinvested in the _Iron Bank._ Thus, in many cases, an eternal circle was created. As in the case of the Antaryon, Bessaro’s family or the Nestoris, in which the more produced their land, the more they reinvested in the bank. With the profits invested in the bank, they improved their lands, strengthened their artisan industries and created greater commercial and clientelistic networks. In this way, some of these families had been exercising _power in the shadows_ _for_ almost four hundred years in _Essos._

 _"[I, Lord Master Gyleno Dimittis of Moroggos, say no.]"_ said dryly, barely holding back a disgusted grimace in the direction of the Targaryen, Noho's brother. His vote was the twelfth vote against, so they already knew they had won. However, that did not stop the voting.

 _'Well, supposedly, after this voting,_ _what has been voted on today could be challenged, in a vote within a week_ _.'_ However, this time the tradition would be broken, because there wouldn’t be who to challenge the contested vote, or speakers to make a challenge.

Still, tradition is tradition and the voting has to end. And it would not end until the final result was announced. That would be the moment when Noho would give the signal to put an end to this issue once and for all.

After the vote of the one who next to Noho and Bessaro himself was more against the Targaryen and who had definitely tipped the balance in favor of no against the proposal, ironically now it was the turn of the one who, without a doubt, was the person that more in their favor was and who more benefit would get from all the Targaryen plans if they had come to pass. The lord of the Andal coast of _Braavos_. Tycho's uncle. Beqqo Nestoris. The owner of the largest commercial fleet in Braavos and the second largest shipyards of the known world.

The location of the lands of the Nestoris was the closest point to Westeros, as well as being the greatest strip of land in the _Braavos_ land and that also controlled all maritime traffic on the eastern bank of _the Narrow Sea_ from Pentos to the _Shivering Sea._ This had meant at the beginning of the city's history, the Nestoris held inordinate power. To this it had to be added that in his domains were the best agricultural lands in the entire city.

 _‘And that was something that, until the city was revealed to the world after the Doom, it made them enormously rich and powerful.’_ Bessaro cursed internally.

 _'If there has been one constant throughout the history of Braavos, it has been house Nestoris. Today we will put an end to that constant.'_ _Bessaro_ thought, trying to contain the growing anxiety, as he watched as Tycho's uncle rose from his seat, bowing first in the direction of the _Sealord,_ then another bow in the direction of his nephew Tycho and finally, another one in the direction of the occupants of the black stone atrium.

 _“[I, Lord Master Beqqo Nestoris, lord of the Andal Coast, say yes. I fully agree with the statements made by my nephew Tycho, Lord Master Tendyris and Master Fugger. We are facing a unique opportunity to expand our commercial networks in previously unimaginable ways. Imagine what we could achieve by putting all the available resources in some companies. Think of the prosperity that we could achieve not only ourselves, but the whole world in general. I know the vote is lost, but that does not mean that you cannot vote again in a week. I believe that an agreement can be reached between both parties. A better agreement that satisfies both us Braavosis, as you, Their Graces and Their excellencies.]"_ finished Nestoris's uncle the passionate speech delivered in a mixture of _High Valyrian_ and _Valyrian bastard_ typical of the _Braavos Tongue_. Beqqo made a subtle bow in the direction of the atrium, in the same maneuver to sit down again.

Bessaro knew in advance that something like this could happen, but the eloquence and passion of Tycho's uncle did not enter into his calculations. The speech that Bessaro thought would only be directed at them, was also directed at the Targaryen. In a way, Beqqo Nestoris was even defending the negative victory of the vote because it is a very demanding proposal and does not have an option for negotiation.

_'Good thing there is not going to be a second voting on this matter, because looking at the Targaryen, it certainly seems that they are even willing to compromise on some of their points after Beqqo's speech. And a week with the Targaryen opening their hands and the Nestoris, Antaryon, Tendyris and their networks running at full speed, would have ensured an overwhelming majority vote in favor of yes. '_

“I, Commander Araldo of the Titan of Braavos, say yes. Braavos has little military capacity to maintain the urban watch as it is. And in any case if we had to go to an open war, we would depend on mercenary companies. I prefer that we be the tail of a _dragon_ , to be the head of a mouse condemned in time to perish.” said the last of the voters, surprising him like before Essorio.

 _'I never thought I would see the day when the two military commanders of the city would show themselves in favor of a foreign invasion.'_ _Bessaro_ _was_ internally disgusted and fuming by what he had just seen.

 _'Worst of all, I know neither of them has been bribed. They have voted in favor of the proposal without being coerced or bought by anyone. Do they prefer to die by Arakh, arrows or disease, than continue to control the forces under their command now?'_ Bessaro wondered, trying to find an explanation for the favorable vote of both men. _'Perhaps they covet glories and feats of arms, or are simply bloodthirsty fools.'_

It could be a problem to kill Araldo as well, at the same time as Essorio. In addition to the fact that both men were also armed and therefore would defend themselves. But the scheme has no turn back.

At least the faces of Noho and his father reassured him, however he could not help but start to feel uneasy when Bessaro saw the numbers that would face against each other. _'From the Targaryen side, sure there are at least five of them that are not going to die without a fight. To this should be added Tendyris, Forel and his nephew Syrio, Essorio and finally Araldo. That is ten men in all.'_

For their part, they had the four false scribes, three _Faceless Men_ , the two Volentin and Volentin’s men. In total fewer than two tens against ten.

 _'Suddenly the stakes have been placed two to one.'_ _Bessaro_ thought to his horror, trying to shake off the increasingly negative feelings he was beginning to have regarding the ambush against the Targaryen and all those who voted for them.

“Due to _his_ current position as _Sealord_ , Lord Master Antaryon has no voting rights. Therefore, the voting is concluded." The scribe added to everything already said, removing Bessaro from his bad feelings about a possible debacle of the plans made in a hurry throughout the night before and that same morning. _'If we fail, I have no doubt that we will not see a new dawn.'_ _Bessaro_ thought as a chill began to run up through his spine.

“The final count is eleven votes in favor of _His Grace_ Aegon Targaryen proposal, and twelve votes are against. Therefore, as dictated by the laws of the _Free City of Braavos_ , the decision taken by the Council of the _City_ is to reject the proposal presented by _His Grace Aegon Targaryen,_ rightful Lord of _Valyria_ and _Westeros."_

Bessaro knew that now would come the moment he had been waiting with growing anxiety during the meeting and that deep down, although he didn’t want to admit it, was beginning to fear.

When Noho give the signal, the _Faceless Men, the Volentin with_ _the_ _hired men_ and the _false scribes_ will launch themselves after the damned Targaryens and all of those who have voted in favor of their proposal.

Before Bessaro could even register it, Noho Dimittis got up from his seat and started laughing outrageously.

“Hahahahaha…[ _It is a pity, Your Graces and Your Excellencies, that you will not be able to return to challenge this voting. Today, we, the true braavosi, have freely demonstrated by voting it, that we will not submit to the slavery of the Dragonlords again. Unfortunately, some of my fellow citizens have shown their true colors and intentions, joining their luck with yours. Therefore I can only say one more thing; Valar Morghulis.]”_ _Noho Dimittis_ exclaimed full of disgust in _bastard Valyrian_ , spreading his arms when he finished saying it, while directing a fierce look in the direction of the supposed Aegon Targaryen.

Immediately, chaos broke out.

The sound of bolts being fired from crossbows in the direction of the stone bench where were the Magistrates and Keyholders who had voted yes, caused screams and moans to begin from some of his already ex-colleagues.

The swords began to _sing_ as they were drawn, as shocked and strangled screams came from the dying Ferrego Antaryon, _Sealord of Braavos_ who had just been pierced in the chest by the Myrish sword of Qarro Volentin, the First Sword of Braavos. The one who ironically was sworn to protect Antaryon first and foremost.

"Damn sons of bitches! We never talk about killing anyone, only about rejecting the terms and changing them for ones that are more beneficial to us. After having tempted and pressured them they could have given us the woorl… arhg.” Antaryon cried regurgitating blood, before Qarro Volentin pierced his throat with his Myrish sword.

“If you hadn't resisted or voted for these bloody incest monsters, we would have been seven and seven. Equally odd numbers. We only try to look after the interests of _Braavos_ and our entity. In addition, many of us found ourselves with the problem of having a lot of wealth and few _free_ lands belonging to the sovereignty of the city in which to invest, so we could never become magistrates. Surely you understand our motives." Bessaro yelled over the general commotion, trying to let his colleagues know that it wasn't about anything personal, just business. As he said this, Bessaro made his way to the central column of the hemicycle where his father and the Dimittis brothers had looked for shelter.

Looking at his father, Bessaro saw that father’s had a plasticized smile on the face, just like Noho. Gyleno Dimittis, the brother of his colleague, had a more concerned expression than Noho, although seemed satisfied with what they were seeing.

In the right corner of the hemicycle, in an attempt to flee to the possible security offered by the bank building, Tendyris, Syrio and Brusco Forel, Araldo and Essorio had made a protective semi-circle. Behind them, the Nestoris, Gyleno, Izembaro who seemed wounded and Fugger, were defended from the Volentins and the hired assassins of the late _Sealord's_ entourage. The rest of magistrates and Keyholders, were now dead or in the process of it.

Above the black stone atrium, almost at its front edge, _the Dragon danced_ with his wonderful sword clutched between his two bare hands, whose knuckles were totally white. _The Dragon’s_ adversaries were two of the three _Faceless Men_ , who, as Bessaro had previously intuited, were the supposed _protectors_ of the _supposedly_ deceased Rhaella and Rhaenys Targaryen.

Although it was true that was outnumbered, to Bessaro’s disgust and some apprehension, the self-styled _Dragon Reborn_ seemed to be defending himself against his two assailants with ease, almost as if the matter was not even with him. _'And the level demonstrated by the Faceless Men is exceptional. But no matter how good it is the Dragon, sooner or later he will get tired or he will be left alone.'_ Bessaro convinced himself, wondering which would come first. ‘ _Exhaustion or being vastly outnumbered??'_

At the foot of the rectangular black atrium, in its two front corners, _Aucturum of Tyrosh_ and the _silver prince_ were defending themselves against the four _false scribes._ Both pairs of _water dancers_ seemed to be putting the prince and the now blond tyroshi in a bind at some moments. However, it seemed that also they were both measuring themselves when it came to counterattacking and hitting back the _water dancers_. Especially the so-called _Aucturum,_ seemed like he was going against what his body and the expanse of it in form of wonderful Valyrian steel he had for a sword, wanted to do.

In the center of the atrium behind the fight between _The Dragon_ and the two _Faceless Men,_ forming a protective crescent, was the man with the blond hair and greatsword, the supposed Lyanna Targaryen-Stark and her supposed niece, forming a barrier in front of the supposed Rhaenys and Rhaella Targaryen. The unsettling Stark child seemed to have been shot down by a crossbow or, by the remaining _Faceless Man_ who Bessaro did not even know who he was, because the eerie boy was in the arms of the woman they claimed was Rhaella Targaryen, totally pale, without the left eye under which sprang a tear of blood and his right eye was completely blank

 _'Another one who bites the dust.’_ _Bessaro_ thought with some relief and concern at the same time, when he saw that with the exception of those recounted and the scribe who was hiding underneath the mahogany table, the rest of those who had started the voting council, were dead. Including some of those who had voted against the Targaryen proposal. Only those he had just enumerated remained alive.

 _‘We’ll be lucky if the four of us survive.’_ _Began to think nervously Bessaro._

To his panic and total paralysis of his body and even his soul, three deafening roars were suddenly heard, shaking the very stone floor on which he was standing. _'The bloody dragons are here.'_

A new roar, this one amplified a hundred times over the previous ones, seemed to shake his body. Some of the hired men and members of the Volentin entourage had stopped fighting to put their hands to their ears, something that Bessaro even seemed to be doing without realizing it himself. It seemed as if his ears were bleeding.

A voice cold as ice echoed throughout the hemicycle after the roar _"[ENOUGH! WE GIVE UP!_ _I DON'T THINK OF LETTING MORE THAN SEVENTH HUNDRED THOUSAND PEOPLE DIE FOR YOUR GREED_ _! ENOUGH!]"_ the _Dragon Reborn's_ voice rang out imperatively completely baffling Bessaro.

Silence invaded the hemicycle, while the tension soared with the cessation of the exchange of steel blows.

Looking at Aegon Targaryen, the alleged _Dragon_ had lowered his sword and had both _Faceless Men's_ long swords pointed near the exposed neck _._ These last ones seemed to be waiting for a gesture from Noho, as they looked in his direction. Dimittis nodded to them and cleared his throat.

 _"[What will be your last words, Hells spawn?]"_ asked Noho Dimittis haughtily and with satisfaction.

 _“[I would like to know how far you’ve contacted to prevent the success of our plans. Because I'm convinced you’ve a hidden card up your sleeve. If all my family, the ones who I love the most, as well as I, are going to die, I would like to know at least how many people were involved in our deaths so that I could curse them from the depths of the Fourteen.]"_ said the _Dragon_ coldly and impassively _,_ facing his death and that of all his family with an astonishing fortitude and tranquility.

 _'Without a doubt he is absolutely mad and thinks that he will be able to come back to life as his supposed daddy.'_ Bessaro began to laugh openly, but was interrupted.

“ _[Bessaro, my friend. Why don't you do the honors and tell them our plans in case they would have managed to escape our trap?]"_ Noho Dimittis asked to him in a sugary voice.

Bessaro did not expect any of this, much less the attitude of Noho, but it is seen that seeing the triumph of his plans had moved Noho and showed more sympathy and warmth in his tone than the one Bessaro had ever seen his colleague and friend use.

Nodding his head, Bessaro began to detail the plan that had led to the circumstance in which they were all now, being at times insulted by his _braavosi_ peers who had voted in favor of the proposal and were still breathing.

“Lastly, should you have managed to get out of _Braavos_ alive, we've taken it upon ourselves to alert _Volantis, Tyrosh, and Myr_ of the _return_ of the _dragons_. Now we will have to send them the good news that at last they have all died.” Bessaro finished explaining, totally haughty, all the time focusing his gaze on the supposed _Conqueror_ returned to life.

He met his gaze, making every hair on Bessaro’s body stand on end. If looks could kill, Aegon Targaryen had just killed him countless times. However, all Aegon Targaryen did was to nod in his direction and in Noho's direction, then smile.

 _'Why is he smiling? Is he not aware that he and his entire family are going to die in a few moments ...'_ Bessaro wondered internally, but was interrupted in his thoughts first by two sudden silver lightning bolts that had been thrown at the neck of Noho's brother and a third white one directed at his leg, causing him an excruciating pain, as it threw him face first to the ground.

The copper and iron taste of the blood in Bessaro’s mouth from the blow when he fell and the pain caused by the prodigious teeth of a furry white creature, which he still could not identify, on his right leg, were turning his stomach.

When Bessaro succeed in turn the head to the left, he could only see the twiching feet of Dimittis' brother. From the noises coming from the spasmodic body lying next to him he could only intuit that what he now realized were fierce grayish and silver wolves coming out of nowhere, had ended Noho’s brother life.

" _Valar Dohaeris_ " Aegon Targaryen's cold, steely voice suddenly rang out.

This was accompanied by an image that Bessaro would not be able to invoke even in his worst nightmares.

When Bessaro look at his father, he had to contain as best he could the urge to throw up. Before his eyes he was seeing how his father, or the one who Bessaro believed was his father, began to _remove his own face._ _R_ evealing a young, handsome face, with fine and smiling features. His hair was long, straight and shiny, falling to his shoulders. White on the left side and red on the right.

Trying to deny the reality of what Bessaro had just seen that had him totally numb, causing him to almost forget the pain of the white wolf's powerful jaws closing on his calf, Bessaro turned his gaze towards Noho Dimittis. He did it just in time to see how Noho's face was _replaced_ by that of _the Kindly Man_ , leader of the _Faceless Men,_ whom they were supposed to have hired.

At that moment, Bessaro, lying face down on the ground, couldn't take it anymore and throw up, causing him to almost choke on what was uncontrollably coming out of his mouth. At the same time Bessaro felt a warm liquid flood his crotch and his legs.

 _'I'm wallowing in my own fluids… How could it all go so wrong?'_ Bessaro thought with a clarity he hadn't had since the appearance of the dragons the day before. It seemed that the humiliation Bessaro was suffering was enough, for the wolf let go of his torn calf and bolted in the direction of the atrium.

Bessaro tried to get to his feet, but only managed to make a painful moan and start crying in pain, only to roll over onto his back. From where he lay on his vomit, blood, and urine, he could vaguely gaze at the cyclopean towers of _the Iron Bank_ , illuminated by the reddish evening sun. Above the bank building, high in the sky, three huge figures soared through the air. One of them, the black shadow that was undoubtedly _Balerion_ somehow come to life, began to dizzily descend towards where they were.

Launching a deafening roar that shook the floor on which Bessaro was sprawled, the monstrously humongous black dragon landed with unprecedented violence on the roof of the _Bank_ building _,_ instantly collapsing and destroying much of the entire left side of the huge building.

The effect of the collision of the dragon with the building was as if a giant hammer fallen from the sky had struck the island on which the cyclopean and centennial building was founded. So powerful was the collision that was able to lift Bessaro briefly from the stone-floor, to return to fall on his back and his own waste and fluids.

With his face covered in his own fluids, he could barely see except for blurred shapes, although Bessaro could continue to hear.

 _”[Ser Jaime, father, Jaqen, Kindly Man, you know what to do. Kill anyone who has attacked us or our braavosi allies. Lord Gerion, Dale, Allard, protect the family.]”_ the cold, iron and commanding voice of the one who by now was undoubtedly, the damm _Dragon Reborn,_ was transported through the dense, warm and sticky air impregnated with the smell of _death_ that had settled in the _braavosi_ hemicycle _._

Bringing his right forearm to the eyes to try to clear his vision, Bessaro tried to rejoin his position, leaning on the left arm. As he did so, he was able to observe to his right that the two _Faceless Men_ who had posed as his father and Dimittis were heading coldly and calmly in the direction of the _Volentins_ and their retinue of mercenaries, whom were now more concerned about the nature of the situation than to attack the magistrates and Keyholder still alive. 

Looking to his left, Bessaro could see that the supposed _Aucturum_ was _depriving_ of head to one of the _water_ _dancers,_ as already directed his next lunge toward the throat of the other. The _silver prince,_ with less speed, but with equally astonishing ease, in a single maneuver, pierced one of the _dancers_ from shoulder to hip _,_ while with the elbow of his free arm he caused a terrifying blow to the face of the second, leaving at his mercy lying on the ground. To Bessaro’s surprise, _Lyanna Targaryen-Stark_ appeared like a lightning bolt besides the prince, thrusting her _Myrish_ sword into the heart of the fallen _water dancer._

If with everything that was happening around him, Bessaro had reason to know that his life was about to end, when he looked straight ahead Bessaro swallowed hard down his throat, trying to face the end with some composure.

When he did so, Bessaro almost throw up again, since all he swallowed was a mixture of vomit, blood and pee that made him nauseous. As Bessaro managed to control his retching and look straight ahead again, he wished at that moment he hadn't.

Advancing in Bessaro’s direction, less than ten paces away was Aegon Targaryen with a glare of eyes and an attitude that produced absolute panic in all of Bessaro’s fibers.

On the right side of the _Dragon_ was the fierce and terrifying white wolf with red eyes that had dismembered half of Bessaro’s right calf, having all the muzzle of its pristine white fur impregnated with Bessaro’s blood. Barely two paces behind Aegon Targaryen's right shoulder, the Stark boy whom he had presumed dead was stroking the back of a gray wolf, smaller than the white, but with a bloodstained muzzle. Beside him, the Stark girl was emulating the gesture her alleged brother was making with the other silver wolf that was just as impregnated by the blood of Noho’s dead brother.

Three steps behind Aegon Targaryen's left shoulder stood Rhaenys Targaryen with her grandmother and three escorts, watching with some contempt in Bessaro’s direction, but not showing an iota of disgust or discomfort at everything that was happening. A dry cough returned his gaze straight ahead.

Less than two steps away from Bessaro, the towering figure of the _Dragon_ loomed above him. Looking at Bessaro with those unfathomable eyes that at that moment seemed to emit purple and silver sparks, _Blackfyre_ girded in the right hand, where on the middle finger was a wonderful gold and ruby ring with the sigil of house Targaryen. The young man's face seemed to be sculpted in white marble, transmitting a hardness and coldness that was almost palpable at the time.

“[ _Bessaro Reyaan, for conspiring and attempting against my life and that of my family, I, Aegon Targaryen, the Dragon Reborn, Lord of Valyria and of the Nine Provinces of the Freehold of Valyria, find you guilty and condemn you to die. Do you have any last words?]"_ Aegon asked him sharply in a cold and hard tone.

 _"[We just wanted a free Braavos….]"_ Bessaro tried to exonerate himself, but was interrupted.

“[ _And that is why you should kill me and my entire family, as well as many of your colleagues and fellow citizens? Don't bother answering me. You have the whole other life to think about the answer.]"_

With no option to reply and without having noticed, _Aucturum_ had kicked Bessaro in the back, and had brought him to his knees before _the Dragon._

Bessaro felt a vibration in the air above his head and as he glanced to where it came from, he could see the incredible _Blackfyre_ blade cutting and vibrating through the air towards his ...

* * *

* * *

_*****_ Voting

**Yes** | **Position** | **No** | **Position**  
---|---|---|---  
Lord Oro Tendyris | Keyholder, First Archon and Lord of Freneros  | Noho Dimittis | Keyholder and Archon  
Tycho nestoris  | Keyholder and Archon | Tycho Reyaan | Magistrate, lord of moonsbridge  
Jakob fugger  | Keyholder | Bessaro Reyaan | Keyholder  
Lord Brusco Forel | Keyholder, Magistrate and Lord of the Marshes | Gyllo from Purple Harbor  | Keyholder  
Daaro of Antaryonos  | Keyholder | Tychoros  | Keyholder  
Izembaro the Great  | Magistrate, voice of the common people (type tribune of the plebs in Rome) | Ragman's Harbor Allaquo  | Keyholder  
Essorio, lord of the Arsenal  | Magistrate, Lord of Arsenal  | Jyssan of Malaqovos  | Keyholder  
Lord Master Tormo Fregar | Magistrate, Lord of Ironport | Donano de Freneros  | Keyholder  
Lord Master Beqqo Nestoris | Lord of the Andal Coast and Magistrate | Pylan of the Andala Coast  | Keyholder  
Commander Araldo of the Titan of Braavos | Magistrate and Commander of the Braavosi forces the Urban Watch | Lord Tagganaro Volentin | Magistrate, Lord of Malaqovos  
Lord Master Gyleno Prestayn | Magistrate and Lord of Prestaynos | Lord Cossomo Zalyne | Magistrate, Lord of Daerves Hills  
|  | Lord Master Gyleno Dimittis  | Magistrate, Lord of Moroggos  
  
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you who have read the Arya chapters in Braavos know that something like this will happen among the Braavosi at some point. It seems logical to me that with the appearance of the Targaryens, each having to show his position, would increase / unleash the tensions that we see in canon four years later.  
> Except for Jakob Fugger, who is inspired by Jakob Fugger (Creator of the Stock Market and banker of Carlos V among other things) all those mentioned are canon characters, with their respective positions / titles. The system and operation of Braavos and the Iron Bank is shown in this chapter.  
> There is a certain canon basis for the events of this UA


End file.
